


Doing just fine

by WannabeCreativeAuthor



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Little bit of angst, M/M, Masturbation, POV Elim Garak, Panic Attacks, Sex, bashir isn't much better, don't worry there isn't just pining they also get it on, garak has a hard time dealing with his feelings, it takes them a while but eventually they get there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 124,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WannabeCreativeAuthor/pseuds/WannabeCreativeAuthor
Summary: Garak hadn't planned on making friends during his exile, much less anything more. It's messy, unpredictable and what was he even thinking about, getting attached like that? Then there's also the question if it's all just in his head...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic chronicles Garak and Bashir's relationship from their first meeting to the end of DS9

How did it end up like this?

He honestly couldn't tell, and he was seldom truthful, even with himself. 

If he believed in fate, which he didn't, he would've said that it was just that kind of force guiding him when he approached that young doctor in the replimat. The truth however was, as it often is, much simpler. 

Garak had been bored out of his mind. Exile was no fun at all, even with the constant supply of endorphins from his implant, and his brain craved some much-needed stimulation. So after some careful, and discreet, observation of the station's personnel he decided Doctor Bashir would make for some mildly interesting company. He was certainly young and impressionable, not to mention quite handsome in that little starfleet uniform. Not necessarily by cardassian standard but oh well. Garak liked a good flirt and found the Doctor's wide-eyed awkwardness to be rather charming. 

Of course he was aware of the station-wide rumors about his past and shamelessly tried to appear as mysterious as he could. 

Once the Duras-sisters approached him with their shady business this paid off nicely. Through the good doctor he had establised a useful line to commander Sisko without actually telling him anything himself. Luckily Bashir had enough sense to know that "buying a suit" didn't always mean just that. Although part of Garak had hoped to find the young doctor half naked when he pulled back the curtain to the changing room. 

Bashir seemed fascinated by the idea that Garak used to be a spy, which he denied vehemently of course. But not too vehemently. 

He did enjoy the attention and distraction from the often boring life of a tailor. Sometimes he even got the chance to rope the poor doctor along into some shenanigans that landed him in trouble with his superiors. He didn't seem to mind too much though. However he was hesitant to return Garak's obvious flirtation. Garak didn't blame him, Bashir was still idealistic, morals fully intact, untouched by life's hard decisions. He might find spies and their world of intrigue fascinating but to involve himself with one was a whole different concept. 

Or the doctor might just not be inclined that way, so far Garak had only seen him wooing women, pitiful as most of these attempts might have been. Maybe Garak would try and teach him a few tricks in that matter to amuse himself. 

In any case the weekly lunches became something he looked forward to more and more, as much as he hated himself for it. A good discussion was something he had always enjoyed, especially about literature, and Bashir was very obliging about trying classic cardassian books. The downside to that was the earth literature he had to endure in exchange. Either the good doctor had simply appalling taste or humanity was a far less civilized culture than he had assumed. 

That their discussion of "The neverending sacrifice", one of his favourites, coincided with the breaking of his implant was particularly bad timing. Pain had always made him lash out and retreat into himself like a hurt animal hiding in its burrow. A character flaw he was well aware of but had had no success in changing. Tain had reprimanded him about his bad temper numerous times, still nature triumphed above nurture. 

Bashir tried only to help, as was in _his_ nature, a noble trait but inconvenient at times. Maybe Garak should have let him do his job from the start, that would've spared him making a spectacle of himself at Quark's, trying to numb his brain with alcohol. 

The events shortly after that were a bit of a haze, tainted with pain and sedatives. What he remembered was giving his best "remorseless monster" impression, trying to deter the doctor with yet another fabricated story. He was so used to lying, why tell the truth now? 

Bashir seemingly believed him, yet refused to let go of the metaphorical bone. What an infuriatingly stubborn man. So he gave in, what choice did he have? Or what difference would it make? As Garak was concerned he was dead already. 

He might have lost control a bit, venting long held frustrations at the poor doctor who wasn't responsible for the predicament Garak found himself in. Still that impossible man went to unthinkable lengths to save his life and even succeeded. 

Garak grudgingly had to admit to being impressed, even though he was sure Bashir treated all his patients with equal care. What he wasn't sure of was if the doctor would fully forgive him. Of course he wouldn't outright apologize, that was out of the question, but smoothing over the whole matter with a bit of charme seemed to work fine. 

They returned to their routine of weekly lunches, but Bashir seemed apprehensive at times. Not that he had ever fully trusted Garak, at least the Cardassian hoped so for the doctor's own good, but now it was more pronounced. 

It didn't help Garak's mood, which had deteriorated since the withdrawal of the endorphines. He wasn't as low yet in his depression as he had been two years ago, but he could feel himself slipping further down day by day. Sometimes he drank a few glasses of kanaar in the evening, that helped a little. Though he knew fully well he couldn't continue that habit regularly or he would soon have another addiction on his hands. 

Was that really the worst thing to happen though? Who would even care? 

On one of these evenings Garak felt especially low. One glass of kanaar with dinner. Alone. 

Usually he felt at least a bit of relief at coming home to his quarters where the air was warm and the light dimmed, but not today. A second glass right after. 

He'd had lunch with Bashir, who seemed distracted during their conversation and excused himself right after finishing his food, on some urgent research. 

A third glass surely couldn't hurt. Garak had been looking forward to giving Bashir his thoughts on "1984", one of the doctor's picks and a book Garak would surely have an interesting opinion on, according to Bashir. A fourth glass was poured and Garak still felt frustrated. He had spent the morning and afternoon sewing beads to an Andorian wedding gown by hand because the damned machine had broken and the deadline for the dress was tomorrow. 

His back still hurt from crouching over the table and he poured himself the fifth glass with shaky hands. When he had downed it he didn't feel the usual calm washing over him but instead his frustration bubbled up as anger. Anger at Bashir for spoiling the only thing he had been looking forward to this week in his miserable excuse for a life. How selfish of him. Garak needed to tell him that. In fact he needed to tell him right now. 

He got up and the room wobbled a bit, but he wasn't really that drunk, he had just gotten up too quickly probably. With determination he exited his quarters and went on his way to Bashir's as quickly as the leaning walls of the corridors permitted. He had been there before, even broken in, and when he found the door, he pressed the button for the chime. It took a while and three more chimes before a blinking Doctor Bashir appeared in front of him. 

"Garak?", he asked "what is it?" 

His hair was tousled and stuck out in every direction. He wore an open robe over a frankly very ugly, striped pyjama. Garak concentrated all of his willpower on not ripping that abomination off the doctor's body immediately. That wasn't what he was here for. What was he there for again? 

"Ah, yes!", he yelled out loud "I came here to tell you something, Mister", he poked Bashir's chest for emphasis while talking. 

The doctor raised his eyebrows "Garak are you drunk?" 

"No", Garak lied, betrayed by his shaky grasp on gravity. 

"You are!", Bashir said "I can smell the kanaar from here" 

"Well, then you can also smell your own betrayal!", that had somehow sounded more eloquent in Garak's head. He felt a bit foggy, maybe he should sit down. 

Bashir looked at him quizzically, then took his arm. "Come on in, no need to wake the neighbours." 

Garak walked into the doctor's quarters but shook off the hand on his arm when he remembered his anger. 

"So what is this about betrayal? What have I done?", the doctor asked with genuine confusion, his voice still raspy from sleep. He motioned for Garak to sit down on the sofa, who willingly obliged since the room had started spinning around him. 

"Have you got any idea, any _idea_ , how many beads I sewed on today?", without waiting for an answer Garak continued "6234! 6234 beads on a stupid dress for stupid people!" 

Bashir tilted his head in a way that indicated 'So? What does this have to do with me?' but said nothing. 

"And then you, _you_ don't even listen! Because your experiments are so much more important than an aging tailor and his thoughts on books! Rude, that's what it is, shockingly rude, doctor!" 

When he was finished there was a moment of silence before Bashir replied. 

"You came here to tell me that you're angry at me because I didn't talk to you about "1984" at lunch? Now? In the middle of the night?" 

"... yes.", Garak felt a bit deflated, it sounded quite ridiculous when the doctor phrased it like that. 

He could see Bashir biting back a grin as he plopped down on the sofa next to Garak. 

"I'm very sorry Garak", it sounded like he was apologizing to a child "I didn't realize you were looking forward to it so much. There is a station-wide outbreak of vulcan measles, some new mutation I needed to find a vaccine for. That's why I had to cut our lunch short." 

The doctor put a hand on Garak's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. Garak only nodded, fighting against the fog around his brain. 

"So how many glasses have you had?", Bashir asked. 

Garak thought a bit before answering "Five" 

"At Quark's?" 

Garak shook his head, which made him a little dizzy and he had to grab the backrest of the sofa. 

There was concern now on the doctor's face "Do you do that often? Drinking alone?" 

"Sometimes", Garak heard himself answer. He had the feeling sober Garak wouldn't have admitted to that but he was getting sleepy and didn't care. 

Bashir nodded slowly "When you're feeling frustrated, like now?" 

"Hmm... what?", Garak had trouble following the doctor's question. His eyes were almost impossible to keep open. He grinned widely at Bashir to make that frown go away. It worked, the doctor gave him a warm smile. 

"It doesn't matter, we'll talk about it in the morning. You can stay here if you... well, if you don't want to be alone tonight. The sofa is quite comfortable." 

"Thank you", Garak mumbled, his eyes were already closed and he had curled up like a cat. 

He heard Bashir chuckle and get up. After a short while he returned and Garak felt a cozy blanket being draped around him. 

"Good night, Garak" 

"Mhmm", was the only sound Garak managed to get out before sleep enveloped him in darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

It was still dark when he woke, shivering slightly. At first he felt disoriented, but then his decade-long training kicked in through the dizziness. An agent always knew where he was.

His tongue and throat felt like dry paper and he was decidedly too cold. Apparently he had thrown off the blanket in the night. The clock on the computer panel showed 03:12. 

He had already gotten up, for which his head thanked him with a stinging sensation. Ignoring this he staggered towards the door as quietly as he could. Before he opened it he paused. The door to the bedroom was ajar and he could hear regular breathing from within. 

Then he slipped out into the corridor. Luckily there was nobody there. 

The whole embarrassment of the situation only hit him halfway to his quarters and he dug his fingernails deep into his palms. There would be no more drinking, he might be depressed but he was determined not to lose his dignity like that again. 

How could he have gotten so carried away? Self-sabotaging idiot! 

When he reached his quarters he raised the room temperature even more and crawled under the covers without bothering to undress. Slowly his body got to a comfortable warmth again, but his head took even longer to drift off to sleep. 

He cursed himself for not at least drinking enough to be rid of the memory, or better yet, enough to have had him collapse in his own quarters, unable to bother others with his sorry state of mind. 

The rest of the night was filled with strange dreams, nothing more than single images and colours, woven together in a feverish collage from which he woke irregularly. When he opened his eyes the final time he gave up on going back to sleep with a deep sigh. He still had about half an hour until he had to get dressed for work. 

Garak turned on his back and stared vaguely at the ceiling. Dreadful was an accurate approximation of how he felt. The headache had worsened as the last remnants of alcohol were leaving his system and he was slightly nauseous. 

Right about now the implant would come in handy. 

But there were other ways to supply his brain with endorphins. 

"Computer, lights", he croaked. Even though his standard illumination programme was quite dim he still blinked in irritation. Then he got up. Standing and walking were more wobbly than usual, but manageable. He made his way to the bathroom, directly to the sonic shower. Tunic, trousers and everything else were discarded in a pile on the floor. For a moment he caught his reflection in the mirror, confirmation that he looked even worse than he felt. His eyes were bloodshot and skin pasty. Was it just his imagination or had he also gained weight? Looking down he prodded his more pronounced belly. He hadn't paid a lot of attention to his body lately. Shrugging he stepped into the shower. 

The sound and vibration were already calming his nerves. For a few moments he just stood there, feeling the sweat and smell of the last day and night disappear. Then his hand wandered low, towards his genital slit. 

Without much ado he slipped two fingers inside and began massaging himself. He would've preferred a bath, the heat felt wonderful on his more sensitive scales, but there wasn't enough time now. 

His mind trailed off while his hand was busy at work. Past encounters with former lovers, holographic images of males and females in suggestive poses, scenes from erotica he had read. Julian Bashir, sitting across from him, chocolate eyes full of worry, then melting into a warm smile. 

Finally his cock everted and he gripped it with his slicked up fingers. Normally he would've scolded himself for conjuring up anyone he knew here on the station for such a purpose. It made things weird. But it wasn't like the good doctor would ever know, and Garak was long past caring at this point if it meant he could finish sooner. 

While he worked himself he let the scenario in his head continue. Bashir's face was coming nearer, eyes now hooded and long-lashed, mouth slightly open. The imagined kiss was hot, wet and steamy. Fantasy Garak didn't bother with buttons, he ripped the ugly striped fabric directly off the doctor's body. From the snug fit of the Starfleet uniform he could make an educated guess and he knew enough about human anatomy to fill in the details. 

At this point he had to steady himself with his other hand on the shower wall. 

In his mind Bashir made lewd noises while Garak explored his body. Mhmm, yes he could feel the heat build up in his stomach and he sped up his motions. 

In the quick-changing manner of fantasies he switched to a scenario where Bashir was straddling his lap, still gorgeously naked, bouncing up and down on his cock. Oh yes, that was _good_. 

Apparently the imagined Bashir agreed because he threw back his head and cried out "Fuck yes, Elim!" 

Garak came more forceful than expected. He pressed his head ridges to the cold tiles on the wall, gasping for air. It took a few minutes for him to calm down. The shower cleaned the mess he had made and slowly his penis retracted again. 

This method might not be as elegant as the brain implant but it was just as effective. His headache had gone. Though Garak wasn't sure if he felt overall better or worse. 

He got dressed and combed back his hair in front of the mirror until he looked at least halfway presentable. But the dark circles under his eyes gave away the lack of sleep. 

Nothing he could do about it, he had a shop to open. Not that it would matter in any significant way if it stayed closed for a day. Or a week. 

Best not to get caught up in that train of thought, duty was duty, as unimportant as it might be. 

It was a quiet morning, the only customers a bunch of Tarkaleans browsing through the displays and a Starfleet officer who asked Garak if he could sew some inconspicuous pockets into her uniform. 

The collection of the wedding dress was scheduled for after his lunch break. He busied himself by ironing out the creases it had gotten while he sewed on the beads. When it was neatly hanging in its protective cover and there were no customers in sight he sat in front of his computer to work on a few designs he had previously sketched out. 

Steps at the door made him look up. The figure of Doctor Bashir came into view. A quick look at the computer's time display told him it was already five minutes into his lunch break. Which coincided with Bashir's. Of course. Damn. 

Garak gave him his usual wide smile although he felt more like screaming. 

"Hello Doctor, what a nice surprise, how may I be of service?" 

Bashir was visibly caught off guard by this, but still answered right away "Hello Garak, I just... wanted to make sure you're, well... alright." 

"Whyever wouldn't I be?", he blinked at Bashir, face a mask of innocence. 

The doctor looked even more puzzled "Well, when I got up you weren't there, so I thought..." 

"And what precisely would I do in your quarters, doctor?", Garak mixed the innocence with concern now as if _Bashir_ was the one not quite alright. 

The puzzled expression stayed for a second longer, then it turned into anger when he saw through the game Garak was plainly playing with him. 

"Now look!", he said "I know I didn't dream that you came to my quarters last night-", Garak was infinitely grateful there was nobody else around to hear this exchange, "-drunk and fell asleep on my sofa. You seemed very down and I just wanted to see if you were OK-", he interrupted himself, then sighed deeply. "Fine! If you want to pretend it never happened because you're too embarrassed and frightened it will ruin your _mystique_ , then we won't talk about it. Suit yourself." 

He turned around and stalked towards the door with long strides. When he was almost through he turned around again like an afterthought and said "See you on wednesday", then he was gone. 

Wednesday was their next lunch appointment. 

That had been resolved much quicker than Garak had anticipated. He had gained a healthy amount of respect for the Doctor's stubbornness in the last few months. What a relief that Bashir had let it go so easily. Though uncharacteristic. 

He mentally filed it away as something to think about at a later time and went to get some food. Something easy on the stomach. 

The next days went by as uneventful as they could possibly be. A lack of docking freighters meant a lack of customers to his shop. Working hours stretched as far as a an orion jelly-worm, the only highlight being a heated debate with a Ferengi merchant about the quality of his Tholian silk. Which was appalling. 

Wednesday came around and, although ridiculous, Garak felt uneasy about seeing Bashir. Of course his outward demeanor was calm and collected as always. 

The Doctor greeted him in his usual friendly manner, the anger seemingly having blown over in the last few days. They made some small talk while in line at the replimat and then sat down at their usual table. Conversation strayed here and there, though at several points Garak felt like there was something specific Bashir wanted to talk about. So he hadn't let it go after all. 

When there was a short pause where neither of them had anything more to say on their current topic, Garak sighed. 

"Alright, out with it Doctor." 

Bashir looked at him in surprise "What?" 

"I can sense there is something you want to say, so say it please.", Garak smiled both encouraging and exasperated, bracing himself for the inevitable discussion about his unhealthy behaviour and personal embarrassment. 

Though when the doctor nodded hesitantly, breathed in deeply and opened his mouth he found himself proven wrong. 

"You remember the week before last when I was assigned on the mission to the Gamma Quadrant to contact the Founders?" 

Garak nodded "Yes" 

"And you know that our away-team was put in a simulation without our knowledge." 

"Yes", Garak affirmed again "you were forced into a situation where you decided to destroy the wormhole to save the Alpha Quadrant, at least that is what I heard." 

Bashir said nothing for a few seconds, staring at his plate, seemingly mulling over how to phrase his next sentence. 

"It felt very real", he said finally. Garak kept silent, knowing there was more. 

"The station, the people, not for a moment I thought there was anything off. And then the whole thing came together so fast, there was no time...", he looked up from his plate. 

"It wasn't just Commander Sisko, Dax, O'Brien and me planning to explode the wormhole, you know. _You_ helped us." 

Garak had no idea where this was going but he was intrigued. 

"But... when we were stealing the Runabout, the Jem'Hadar surprised us and... you got shot. We had to leave you." 

_Oh_

Garak could still see the shock on the young man's face. 

"I know it was just a simulation, but..." 

"In the moment you experienced it as reality.", Garak finished the Doctor's sentence. 

Bashir nodded. "I don't know why I didn't tell you right away at our last meeting. It... felt strange sitting across from someone I had left to die only a day before. I wasn't just distracted because of the Vulcan measles." 

Garak nodded thoughtfully. "Well doctor, I have come close to dying quite a few times in my life, but never before without my knowledge.", he smiled. 

Bashir smiled back, relief at the broken tension clear on his face. 

"Then tell me doctor", Garak continued with a teasing grin "what was the simulated Garak like?" 

Bashir broke out into a grin as well "Oh I don't know, I thought he was a bit nicer, maybe more... enigmatic?" 

Garak played mock-hurt, then they both laughed. After that their conversation took a lighter turn until they set a date for the next lunch and parted ways. 

On the one hand Garak was relieved the incident hadn't come up directly again, on the other hand he felt even more foolish now. Obviously Bashir hadn't meant his story to have that effect on him. Presumably he had told him as an explanation, maybe a need for Garak to know the whole truth. Not to make him feel guilty for bothering the doctor about an unsatisactory lunch-break, he wasn't that kind of person. Almost pathologically understanding, the good doctor. 

Garak had to admit feeling somewhat perversely flattered that his "death" had shaken Bashir visibly. It really shouldn't please him so much. And if Garak were a better person he would feel more guilty. Instead he smiled to himself and returned to his shop with a small spring in his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised they would get it on, but it's not the time yet, so I wrote you a wanking Garak instead, hope that's ok^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you will notice I referenced the season 3 episodes "Second Skin", "Civil Defense" and "Distant Voices" (in the case of Distant Voices I wrote down a portion of dialogue directly from screen)   
> It occurred to me that it would be helpful if I list the episodes at the beginning so you know what the hell I'm writing about.^^ Please let me know if you want me to explain the events of the episodes more in the text. I wrote as little of it in as I could so it wouldn't all be boring exposition, but I don't know if it's easily understandable if you haven't seen the episode recently.  
> Also, if any of you wants to proof read this, be my guest. English is my second language so it would be very much appreciated.

It was rare he received word from "home". Those friends he still had on Cardassia Prime did well in trying to contact him as little as possible, and vice versa. The Obsidian Order always had a watchful eye open, and Garak was under no illusion that Deep Space Nine being a Federation-run station made any difference in his near-constant observation. 

There were no monitoring-devices in his quarters and he had set up several security measures to ensure it stayed that way. He had been a high-ranking agent in the Order after all, he knew all the tricks. 

On and off he found a bug hidden somewhere in his shop. A lot of the undercover operators were quite obvious if one knew what to look for. Garak could only wonder what had happened to the thorough training he'd had to endure in his youth. The new powers that be really had -what was that earth phrase again?- let the place go to the dogs? 

So when a coded message appeared on the screen in his quarters by a, now retired, colleague of his, he was all ears. It would likely interest him to know, the message said, that a certain Bajoran Major had been "persuaded" to take a holiday on Cardassia for an unspecified amount of time, where she would reside with close relatives. 

Garak had heard of Major Kira's disappearance from her trip to Bajor but had not connected it to anything Cardassian so far. Interesting information indeed. 

Garak felt quite neutral about the Major but that was of no consequence. What kind of shady business was the Cardassian government planning with her? 

He looked up from the computer panel. If he thought about it right, now would be a good time for a late snack, and what better company for it than Doctor Bashir, whose shift would end in precisely five minutes. 

The Doctor persuaded Garak to come to Commander Sisko's office, although he had already told Bashir everything his contact had relayed. But he humored him. 

That Garak was then blackmailed into attending the, in his view, doomed rescue-mission came as an unwelcome surprise. He longed to see his home planet again, but breaking an exile imposed by the Obsidian Order was as good as a death-sentence. Well, what did the Federation know about these kinds of things. Certainly he was not disposed to sacrifice himself for them, a statement that seemed to amuse Sisko. 

In the end it wasn't as easy as the Commander had thought, of course it wasn't. Why else would the Cardassian empire be feared across galaxies? If anyone could just walk in undetected. 

Garak wasn't a religious man, but he thanked whatever entity might watch over the universe silently when his clearance code was accepted by the officer on duty and he let them pass. 

Retrieving the Major then was a relatively quick affair and Garak breathed more easily once they were a safe distance away from Cardassian space. 

Back on the station Bashir already waited to hear every detail. Garak didn't mind much, for once he had something to tell that didn't date back longer than three years. Or was only a half-truth. 

"So wait a minute", the doctor said through his spice pudding "they changed Kira into a Cardassian to convince that man who came with you on the Defiant that she was his daughter. Then when the supposed triggering of her 'real' memories didn't work, they knew he would help her to escape through his contacts with the dissidents, at which point they'd have enough evidence to expose him." 

Garak nodded. 

"What a convoluted plan", Bashir remarked. "What if he hadn't tried to get her off the planet? If he'd tried to convince her even more to give up the information the Order supposedly wanted? That whole scheme hinged on the belief that a father loved his daughter enough to let her go." 

"Well, to us Cardassians family is the most important thing.", Garak said "Besides duty to the State, of course." 

Bashir looked thoughtful. Garak bit back on the question if the Doctor didn't believe his parents would react in the same manner. He was certain _his_ father wouldn't. 

Then Bashir smiled at him "It was very noble of you to help us." 

Garak huffed. "As if I had any choice! Your commander Sisko may spout the usual honourable, do-good Federation codex but beyond that facade hides a common manipulator!" 

Bashir laughed "Still, from what you've told me, I think you could've played a more passive role. But you didn't." 

"My dear doctor", Garak lowered his voice and put on his most devious smile "I can assure you that, given the choice, I am never passive." 

Bashir raised one eyebrow and broke out into a grin "Oh, is that so?" 

It was a vague challenge, lingering in the air. But the moment didn't last long when Bashir's comm badge announced he was needed urgently in the infirmary, and the tension was broken. 

Quite unusual for the doctor to respond to his flirtation so frankly. Generally he brushed it off in some way, more or less gracefully. Garak could of course have stopped his comments altogether, but sometimes he enjoyed making Bashir squirm. 

Normal life on the station resumed. Business stayed quiet apart from a thoroughly unpleasant dealing with a Betazoid who found communication with non-telepathic races a sheer unsurmountable challenge. After the third alteration Garak had to make to the commissioned garment because the man in question had been unable to convey his wishes in clear terms, he was scared off by the frankly graphic thoughts of what Garak would like to do to his pretty neck. Not without paying first of course.It was his own fault, if you snooped around in other people's brains you might encounter more than kittens and rainbows. 

Privately, Garak indulged in a one-night stand with a very cute Denobulan who worked as part of the crew on a docked freighter. 

Bashir seemed to be in quite a good mood whenever they met up for lunch and Garak wondered if this might have anything to do with a new girlfriend. If yes, the Doctor was very good at keeping the relationship secret. 

Seeing Dukat again on the station posed a rather less welcome break of the routine, especially since he came with the triggering of a hidden safety mechanism. 

That this infuriating man hadn't gotten himself killed yet with his arrogant and obnoxious behaviour was a miracle of the highest order. 

"What exactly is it between you two?", Bashir asked when the danger was over and the station under control. 

"Oh well, suffice to say I played a not unimportant role in the conviction, and subsequent execution, of Dukat's father. From there on out our relationship took a turn for the worse I'm afraid. As you heard, he tried to have me executed a few times." 

What Garak neglected to mention was that, upon their first meeting, he had attempted to hit on Dukat, who used to be more handsome but had always been almost painfully straight. Naturally he hadn't taken to it kindly and ridiculed Garak in front of his colleagues. 

The trial of Dukat's father didn't have anything to do with that incident, but it certainly didn't come unwelcome to Garak. 

Bashir shook his head unbelieving "What did his father do?" 

"My dear doctor, I fear that information is classified. But rest assured, justice was served that day.", he smiled at him widely. 

Bashir smiled back. 

As an afterthought Garak added: "Oh and doctor, you should tell the Major to be careful. Dukat has always had a rather unfortunate penchant for feisty Bajoran women and he won't give up that easily." 

Bashir laughed "It's very nice of you to be concerned but I imagine Kira can handle herself on that front. But if I were you I wouldn't let her hear you call her 'feisty' if you don't want to experience it first hand." 

Garak laughed along. Had the doctor just said it was being very nice of him to show concern? 

That night in his quarters Garak had trouble getting to sleep. The unexpected meeting with Dukat still weighed on his mind in a diffuse anger. How come this poor excuse of a Cardassian was still allowed to meddle in politics far over his small head? While Garak was condemned to hem pants on this flying trash can for all eternity. 

He sighed and ordered the computer to put the lights on again. If he couldn't sleep he might as well get some reading done. The padd with Doctor Bashir's newest recommendation lay on his bedside table. Apparently it was a "mystery novel" similar to Cardassian Enigma Tales. 

Garak began to read, but after the first chapter he was so thoroughly bored that his mind started to wander again. This time not towards Dukat but to Bashir. 

The more he thought about it the surer he got that the Doctor's behaviour towards him had been different the last few weeks. He had the feeling Bashir started to trust him, maybe inspired by the latest instances where Garak had played a role in "saving the day", as Humans liked to say. 

A grave misjudgement of character on the Doctor's part. Never trust a spy. Even an ex-spy who now spent his days sewing dresses. 

Following on that train of thought, he remembered that it was Bashir's birthday in a few weeks. He had to think of a present so he would have time enough to procure it. Deep Space Nine wasn't on one of the main trading routes and it could get tricky ordering specific things. 

What might the good Doctor say if Garak just wound a big bow around himself and turned up in his quarters like that? He chuckled to himself. Then he looked down. Well, seeing this paunch Bashir would likely screech and run away. 

Garak poked his soft belly. He really had gotten a little too comfortable, sitting in his shop day in and day out, eating good food. What he needed was a diet and he would start tomorrow. What a depressing thought. He yawned and put out the lights. 

Before he drifted off to sleep though, Garak got the idea that Bashir might enjoy an Enigma Tale if he was so fond of mystery novels, and he made a mental note of it. 

Getting a hold of a Cardassian holoprogram wasn't as difficult as Garak had thought. It was even one of his personal favourites. Tying the little bow around the cylinder, he thought he might give the Doctor his present early. Maybe today during their lunch. Bashir's birthday was only a couple days off now, and after eating mostly salads for weeks Garak felt he deserved a "thank you Garak" and a smile. 

The meeting was off to a rocky start though, the Doctor seemed to be in a strange kind of mood. As a by-the-way Garak told him of his plan to lose some weight and, instead of a polite "No Garak, you look fine", he received an offer for an exercise program. Only years of agent-training kept Garak from slapping that smug face. He brushed it off and continued to the gift-giving. Maybe that would make this interaction more enjoyable. 

He was mistaken. Bashir's foul mood worsened at the mention of his upcoming birthday. What a ridiculous notion to mark thirty as the end of youth and then be sad about it. When he had turned thirty he had welcomed it with open arms, finally people had begun to take him seriously. 

But if the Doctor wanted to be grumpy about it that was his choice. 

The only amusement Garak gained from this lunch break was wondering what kind of scheme Quark, who disturbed their conversation, had gotten himself entangled in this time. His Lethean "friend" looked like trouble. 

A stance that proved to be true when later Garak got the message that Doctor Bashir had been attacked by said Lethean and lay in a coma. 

He rushed to the infirmary but stayed in the background, unseen, when he saw Commander Sisko, Lieutenant Dax and some of the other Doctors standing around Bashir's bed. 

The Doctor's state remained largely unchanged for the next few hours. In an unobserved moment Garak stepped at his bedside. Bashir looked like he was fighting some kind of internal battle. Garak took one of his hands, all of the previous frustration forgotten. Contrary to popular belief he wasn't made of stone and would very much prefer it if the good Doctor made a speedy recovery. 

Unexpectedly one of the Bajoran nurses entered the room. She was visibly startled by Garak's presence and looked at him sceptically. Then she noticed that he was holding the Doctor's hand and her face softened into a smile. Without a comment she checked Bashir's vital signs and left the room. 

How peculiar. 

Garak had come to expect suspiciousness and distrust from the Bajorans on the station. _This_ was new. 

Fortunately shortly after, Bashir woke from the coma. Garak was honestly relieved but decided to give the Doctor space. He had all of his friends around him, Garak wasn't needed there. 

The whole thing preyed on his mind though, so he decided to ignore his diet for the day and treat himself to a piece of Tarkalean chocolate cake when he retired to his quarters. After that he felt a bit better. 

The next day he immediately regretted it, he could've sworn his tunic was a little tighter than usual. 

Around midday Garak was getting ready to close up his shop for his lunch break and almost bumped into Bashir who had just appeared in the doorway. 

"Doctor!", he greeted him for lack of a better idea. 

"Garak!", Bashir replied with a smile "I know we weren't planning to meet up today, but I was wondering if you were free for lunch? I feel like I need to make up for my grumpiness yesterday." 

"My dear Doctor", Garak replied, slightly puzzled "you do remember you spent a good part of yesterday in a coma? Are you quite sure you have recovered fully?" 

"Very sure", Bashir nodded "the attack was purely mental, a good night's sleep and now I'm as good as new." 

"Well, you're the medic", Garak shrugged "then I'll take you up on your offer.", he gave the Doctor a big smile. 

What Bashir then told him during their shared lunch break sounded like quite an experience. Battling your own mind that is slowly turning against you was a concept best put in a piece of horror writing. 

"Actually I did some checking on Letheans, their telepathic attacks are almost always fatal. I guess I was lucky." 

Garak shook his head "Cardassians don't believe in luck, Doctor. You survived because you're strong.", and he meant it. 

"One thing's for sure you know, after experiencing life at a hundred plus, turning thirty doesn't seem as bad anymore.", Bashir smiled apologetically. 

"In that case", Garak raised his mug of red leaf tea "Happy Birthday." 

After he had sipped the tea he added "You know Doctor, what I find most fascinating about this entire incident is, how your unconscious mind chose people you know to represent the various parts of your personality." 

He had been particularly amused by the casting of Chief O'Brien, somehow terribly fitting in his role and yet not. 

"Yeah that did make things interesting", Bashir agreed. 

"And what I find interesting is how your mind ended up casting ME in the role of the villain.", Garak tried to say it teasingly, as a joke, but a note of bitterness crept in unbidden. 

"Ooh, I wouldn't read too much into that, Garak...", the Doctor tried to rescue the situation. 

But Garak didn't let up "Well how can I not? To think after all this time, after all our lunches together, you still don't trust me." 

Bashir started to say something but Garak put his hand on his arm. "There is hope for you yet, Doctor." 

The tension was diffused. 

They changed to a more pleasant topic. Apparently Lieutenant Dax had given up on keeping her party plans secret, something that hadn't worked for the last two years anyway, and just told Bashir his celebration was to be held at Quark's. She had felt, since it was his thirtieth birthday, that his quarters just weren't big enough to contain this momentous event. 

Garak would soon get an invitation too, Bashir said. 

It was nice of Lieutenant Dax to include him, but Garak doubted that most of the attendees would be comfortable with his presence. He would need to go though, there was no feasible excuse he could think of. Faking an illness sadly wasn't an option when the host in question was a medical man. 

Sure enough he found a neat paper card slid under the door of his shop when he returned. The invitation listed two musical acts and proclaimed drinks would be free. That had probably cost the Lieutenant a lot of latinum as he knew Quark and his business practice. 

Well then, just one question remaining. What to wear?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my Garak is getting more bitchy in every chapter and I love it^^


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally it's happening, they're having sex, hooray!

In the end he decided on something simple, yet elegant. His usual trademark style.

He could already hear the party from the second level. Glasses were clinking, people chatting and the unmistakable sound of Bolian jazz. The celebration was already in full swing, and Garak of course fashionably late. 

The Doctor greeted him with his usual sunny smile and Garak wished him a happy birthday again. They didn't have long to exchange pleasantries though. Bashir got whisked away by Dax and Chief O'Brien to blow out thirty candles on an enormous cake, to roaring applause. 

All the senior staff had been invited, along with all the medical personnel, a few people Garak recognized from around the station and some he didn't. The atmosphere was cheerful, if a little crowded for his taste. 

Quark came by with a tray of drinks, practically forcing one on Garak. The Ferengi seemed so happy it was almost frightening. He must make a fortune off this party. 

Somehow Garak ended up making conversation with Morn for most of the evening. To his surprise, Morn had some very interesting opinions on the Prime Directive and intergalactic law that Garak found himself largely agreeing with. 

As the night progressed, the Bajoran nurse who had surprised Garak in the infirmary, joined their discussion. Which then devolved into Morn telling amusing stories of his extended family. Garak had to admit that there was an easy charme around the man, but it was very obviously being directed at the nurse, whose name was Leira. 

Garak let his eyes sweep the room. The celebration had quieted down somewhat, but there were still a lot of people dancing and swaying to the music. One of them Bashir, who caught Garak's gaze and came over to their group. 

"Hey, how're you doing Garak?", the Doctor waved a hand, holding a half empty glass, at him. He wasn't exactly drunk just a bit tipsy. 

Garak took hold of his own drink and turned around fully on his barstool to face Bashir. 

"Fine, Doctor, what a nice party." 

Bashir continued smiling "Glad to hear it. Care to dance?" 

Garak put his hands up "I'd rather not" 

Bashir laughed "Wouldn't have thought so. But I wanted to talk to you, should we go somewhere a bit more quiet?", he indicated the second level tables with his thumb. 

Garak glanced to his right where Morn and Leira were talking animatedly. She had her hand on Morn's arm. Garak smiled and nodded at Bashir "I think I'm not needed here." 

The Doctor led the way up the narrow stairs. He chose a table that was only very dimly lit, next to the bannister so it overlooked the rest of the bar. Garak was grateful for the rest it gave his eyes. The Human need for so much brightness would always escape him. Though to be fair, Quark's bar was relatively acceptable in comparison to the rest of the station. 

Unlike their ususal pattern they sat next to eachother at the small table, both facing the bannister. Up here the music was more quiet, a nice background noise. 

"What are you drinking there?", Bashir asked, pointing at Garak's glass that he had taken with him. He had to lean over to Garak so he didn't have to shout. 

"I think it is one of Quark's own creations", Garak replied "Root beer mixed with Romulan Ale, I believe." 

Bashir pulled a face. 

"It's actually not unpleasant", Garak indicated for Bashir to try for himself. 

The Doctor shook his head vehemently, "No, thanks." 

He began fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, seemingly thinking about how to approach the subject he wanted to talk about. It was a very nice shirt, a few shades darker than the teal of his uniform, with a subtle silver pattern. Garak distinctly remembered selling it to him. 

"You know, I've been thinking...", Bashir finally began "about the things I experienced while in the coma." 

Garak nodded. He could feel the Doctor's breath against his cheek. 

Bashir continued, "And you saying I cast you as the villain because I don't trust y-" 

Garak interrupted him. 

"My dear Doctor, there isn't anything for you to feel bad about. As I think I said, there is hope for you yet. It is perfectly natural not to trust an individual you know next to nothing about. Just a sign that your subconscious functions as it should.", he gave his usual impenetrable smile. 

"No but that's just the thing", Bashir argued "it wasn't my subconscious that picked you. My mind cast all the other roles, but the telepathic damage of the Lethean was an intruder, he didn't belong there. So he had to disguise himself. There are some intelligent viruses that do a similar thing, they mask themselves as other body substances so they won't be detected by the white blood cells..." 

Was this going to be another long medical monologue, Garak asked himself. 

"...So it would be fairly stupid of the Lethean to choose someone I mistrust. Right up until the end I had no clue that 'you' were the intruder, you seemed to help me and I had no reason to doubt it. If my subconscious had wanted to warn me it would've chosen someone I _really_ mistrust, wouldn't you agree? Like Gul Dukat maybe. No, the Lethean chose someone whose competency I wouldn't question." 

Bashir looked at him with such an earnest expression that Garak had to avert his eyes. 

"I must admit to feeling quite flattered, Doctor.", Garak said, and he couldn't suppress the genuine smile creeping over his face. "But there really was no need to tell me all this." 

"Yes there was", Bashir insisted, seemingly emboldened by his previous speech "I want you to know that... in some way I do trust you." 

When he saw that Garak was about to protest he went on "Yes, maybe it's not clever and a horrible mistake, but... I just can't help it.", he smiled sweetly and shrugged. 

Garak shook his head, defeated "Doctor, you're an incorrigible optimist. I just hope you won't come to regret it one day." 

"If so, I'll only have myself to blame." 

Garak couldn't argue with that. Both of them sipped their drinks quiety and stared down at the other guests for a while. 

"Morn seems to be successful tonight", Bashir commented. Garak looked over to the bar where Morn and Leira were about to leave, her arm linked firmly with his. 

"It certainly seems that way. Hopefully she is off duty tomorrow, I hear Lurian lovemaking can be quite... intense." 

"Garak!", Bashir looked half scandalized, half amused. 

"I am just stating the obvious." 

The Doctor chuckled. "So... where did you hear that about the Lurians?", he said teasingly. 

"Oh, one overhears things here and there as a tailor.", Garak deflected. He wasn't inclined to tell the good Doctor about the memorable incident during an undercover mission on Cardassia three's second moon, where he had posed as a callboy. 

"Especially since Morn leaves quite a trail of hearts here on the station.", he added. 

Now Bashir full on giggled. When he had composed himself more or less he asked "So your customers confide in you?" 

"Sometimes. A few of them just need a sympathetic ear." 

Bashir nodded "And is there someone... you do more with than just, uh, listening?" 

Garak felt the small scales on his arms and chest prickle. 

"Doctor, are you asking me if I am in a relationship?" 

"... yes?", Bashir was visibly nervous now. 

"My dear", Garak said with a grin "if you want to fuck me you could have just said so outright." 

The Doctor's eyes went wide, he opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. 

When it didn't look like Bashir was going to say anything coherent in the next few seconds, Garak spoke up again. 

"Oh I am sorry Doctor, was that a bit too blunt?" 

Garak enjoyed making Bashir umcomfortable, he wore it exceptionally well. 

"Maybe this is better?", he placed his hand over the Doctor's on the table and caressed the soft skin. 

Bashir flinched a little at the unexpected touch, his eyes were wide when he looked at Garak. Their fingers interlaced and both of them leaned closer together. 

Garak was sure they couldn't be seen from where they were sitting or he would've been more discreet. 

He leaned in for a kiss and Bashir met him halfway. It was slow and sweet, exploratory. Human lips were very soft and Bashir tasted of the sweet drink he'd had. 

When they broke away Garak asked "Is that more what you had in mind?" 

The Doctor gave a short laugh "Kind of, yeah", he said a little out of breath and smiling widely. 

"Good", Garak said "then may I demonstrate what _I_ have in mind?" 

Bashir looked at him bewildered but said "Sure...? Go ahead." 

Garak gently cupped the Doctor's cheek. Those hooded eyes blinked at him softly. 

Then he crashed their mouths together fiercely. He bit down on Bashir's lower lip, just hard enough so he would feel it, then kneaded it between his teeth. 

Garak's arms went round Bashir's waist, pulling him in. Bashir reciprocated by slinging his arms round Garak's neck and burying his hands in his hair. 

Meanwhile Garak's knee was pushing Bashir's legs apart under the table and pressed against his groin. Instinctively the Doctor slid forward on his chair to lean into the touch, a soft sigh escaping his mouth. 

Garak broke the kiss and moved his mouth along Bashir's jaw, grazing the skin softly with his teeth. When he arrived at the Doctor's ear he whispered "Maybe we should continue this in my quarters." 

"Yes...", Bashir's voice was husky. 

Garak let go of the Doctor abruptly and got up. Then he extended a hand with a devillish smile. A slightly overwhelmed-looking Bashir took it and stood up as well. 

Since they were already on the second level they had no problem escaping the bar without being seen by anyone. It was so late that almost nobody was still on the promenade. 

They walked side by side quietly, Bashir wore a small smile and occasionally looked over at Garak as if to make sure he was still there. 

In the turbolift they stood so close together that Garak could feel Bashir's body heat. 

The Doctor turned to him and leaned against Garak. With his hands placed at the Cardassian's sides he nuzzled his head against Garak's neck and began nibbling at his neck ridges. 

Oh that felt good. 

Much too soon the lift arrived at the habitat ring. The door opened and Garak thanked the universe there was noone waiting to enter. 

The habitat ring was completely void of people and Bashir took his hand while they walked towards Garak's quarters. 

Garak hoped intensely that Odo wasn't around somewhere, as part of a bulkhead or something. 

In his quarters, Garak ordered "Computer, lights", then he turned round to Bashir, "I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with Human customs, should I offer you a drink fi-" 

He didn't get any further because the Doctor had already pressed his mouth to Garak's. 

Well that simplified matters. 

Somewhere along the way Bashir had apparently shaken off his surprise at the situation and found his usual confidence again. His hands were already busy with the clasps on Garak's tunic while his tongue gently played with the Cardassian's. 

Garak took Bashir's arm and tried to guide both of them to the bedroom. It was clumsy but they made it. There they sank onto the bed, next to each other. 

Bashir moved on top of Garak so he sat in his lap and straddled his legs. Their groins were pressed close together and Garak could feel the Doctor's hard excitement. 

Garak knew that Human penises didn't retract and hoped that Bashir knew enough about Cardassian anatomy that it wouldn't make things awkward. 

Carefully he unbuttoned Bashir's shirt and slid it off his slender frame. Then he grazed his teeth over the warm skin, beginning just under the ribcage and wandering upwards all the way to the throat. Bashir had no ridges so Garak applied his mouth to the side of his neck. From the Doctor's soft sighs he figured that was a sensitive spot for Humans as well. 

Bashir had his hands at Garak's sides to stabilize himself. There he sneaked his hands under the tunic and undershirt and ran his fingertips over the ridges that connected from the neck, over the shoulders and down Garak's body. 

It tingled nicely. All ridges on the Cardassian body were sensitive, but Bashir was a little too gentle for Garak's liking. 

He pressed Bashir's fingers together with his own hand so that thumb and fingers closed around the ridge. The Doctor understood instantly and kneaded the ridges between his fingers, not unlike a massage. 

Mhhmm, that was much better. 

Steadily he worked his way up, bunching the fabric of the tunic and undershirt as he went along. When he had arrived at Garak's shoulders, the Cardassian lifted his arms and Bashir slid off the tunic, throwing it to the side. 

He immediately applied his mouth to Garak's neck ridges again while his hands still continued at the sides. 

So good. 

A little moan might have escaped Garak's mouth because he could feel Bashir smiling against his neck. The Doctor's groin pressed into him more urgently now and he could feel a throbbing in his own nether regions. 

Bashir's heat felt so nice on Garak's bare skin, he would've liked to just curl around him. Instead he slung his arms around the Doctor's body and idly traced the curve of his spine. It wasn't unlike a ridge, just hidden under soft skin and scaleless. And it seemed at least to be a little sensitive since Bashir leaned even more into Garak. 

Then the Doctor loosened his lips from Garak's neck, shifted his legs slightly and placed one hand flat on Garak's back. Slowly, while steadying himself with the other arm on the mattress, he moved himself forward and Garak backwards into a lying position. 

He grinned impishly while fiddling with the flies on Garak's trousers. The Cardassian propped himself up on his elbows, discretely sucking in his belly. 

Well, apparently not that discretely. Bashir had clearly noticed and placed a few butterfly kisses directly on Garak's belly before smiling at him sweetly. Then he continued ridding Garak of his trousers. 

Spreading out from the kisses Bashir had placed, heat pooled in Garak's stomach. His genital slit throbbed even harder, almost painful. 

Finally Bashir was done with the trousers and pulled down Garak's underwear. There was no surprise or uncertainty on his face and before Garak could even attempt saying anything, Bashir had placed a hand lightly over his slit. 

"May I?" 

Garak could only nod. 

The warm hand caressed the small scales around it. Then, very tenderly, two fingers slipped inside. Garak sucked in a sharp breath, followed by a sigh. Bashir began massaging up and down. 

He certainly knew a lot more than the Denobulan had. 

It only took a few strokes before Garak's cock everted. Bashir's fingers pressed down deeper into him and now Garak moaned audibly, not even trying to suppress it. 

Garak reached around Bashir, who was still kneeling on his legs, and grabbed his ass while the Doctor continued massaging. Then he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Bashir's trousers, bringing his hands to the front again, and opening the flies. Reaching a hand inside he cupped the Doctor's cock through his underwear and pressed lightly. 

Bashir made a noise that sounded like "Hmm-ah". He grinned and made quick work of both trousers and underwear. For that he had to get up and Garak used the opportunity to move both of them further towards the headboard instead of the foot of the bed. 

Leaning against a few pillows, he pulled Bashir on top of him for a long kiss. Their bodies entangled in a tight embrace, their cocks trapped between them. They slid a bit against eachother to create some friction while hands stroked every millimeter of skin they could find. 

The weight and heat of another body on top of him felt incredible. So good it even overpowered his need to take control. 

Bashir's mouth was warm and wet, their tongues explored each other while desire rose even more in Garak. The Doctor's skin smelled of sex, fresh sweat and something else he couldn't place. Whatever it was, it was irresistible. 

He reached between them until he found Bashir's cock and stroked it a few times. The Doctor moaned into Garak's mouth. Then Garak guided him into his genital slit. 

Bashir seemed surprised but pushed in slowly. Garak was so slick there was hardly any resistance. A deep sigh escaped both of them. 

Garak arranged his legs to both sides of Bashir to give him better access. Tentatively the Doctor rocked into him and Garak made a most undignified sound of pleasure. 

Encouraged by that, Bashir continued more confidently. Both of them now breathed audibly. Garak stroked the Doctor's spine again and pressed into the motion with his hips. 

Bashir placed little kisses on the ridges that formed a teardrop shape between Garak's collar bones. The Doctor kept a fairly slow pace, making every stroke count. For a while only their breathing could be heard, interrupted by low moans and sighs. 

Even at that rate Garak wouldn't last very long, and he suspected Bashir wouldn't either. He could already feel his movements getting more desperate. 

The Doctor brought their lips together again, this time more messy, both of them panting. Garak could feel himself getting close, his breath coming more ragged. Bashir reached between them and started stroking Garak's cock in time with every rocking motion. The heat pooled in Garak's stomach tightened until, with a moan, it spread out into every nerve ending in his body. Semen dribbled on his belly. 

Bashir continued his movements until he too came with a cry. A few slow rocks after that to ride out both of their orgasms. 

Gently Bashir lowered himself onto Garak and kissed him again. Slowly this time, both of them worn out. Then he pulled out and rolled to the side, still breathing quick. 

Garak propped himself up on his elbows and opened the drawer on the night stand to retrieve some tissues and passed one on to Bashir. 

When they were cleaned up they leaned back, Garak had grabbed the blanket and draped it over them. Bashir nuzzled his head between Garak's neck and shoulder so he was forced to lay his arm around the Doctor. Bashir's hand was idly painting patterns on Garak's belly. 

"Best birthday in a long time", Bashir grinned, and Garak chuckled softly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian is a lovesick puppy and it's cute^^ Garak's trying very hard not to melt, though I think he might fail very badly...

Waking to warm breath on his skin was a rarity these days. If and when he had nightly visitors they were often gone by morning. Not this one.

Garak blinked into the darkness. Bashir had curled around his side, breathing rythmically on Garak's shoulder. He smiled at the sight. The blanket had shifted out of place in the night and Bashir's legs and Garak's left side were exposed. Carefully, not to wake the Doctor, he rearranged it, cuddling closer in the process. Bashir's body radiated heat and Garak basked in it like a cat in the sun. Maybe he would've purred if he could. 

Bashir stirred a little, opening sleepy eyes. Then he shifted his head to meet Garak's face and smiled drowsily. 

"Morning" 

"Good morning", Garak smiled as well and his stomach fluttered a bit. A very good morning indeed. 

Bashir scooted up, pressing a small kiss to Garak's lips and draping an arm around his middle. 

"Sorry, I have terrible morning breath", he apologized. 

Garak imagined his wasn't exactly pleasant either. 

"Would you care for a tea then, or coffee?" 

Bashir beamed at him "That would be lovely, Tarkalean tea, please." 

Although it pained him to leave the warmth of the bed, Garak got up and padded towards the replicator on bare feet. 

"Computer, lights." 

He felt suddenly quite aware that he was naked and in full view of the Doctor. His movements got a little self-conscious. 

Get a grip, he scolded himself, you used to be a spymaster of the Obsidian Order! 

A much more physically fit spymaster, the unhelpful side of his mind supplied. 

He ordered two Tarkalean teas and straightened up a little when he walked back to the bed. 

Bashir had sat up against the headboard, knees pulled to his chest and was watching Garak approach, his face serene. 

Somehow that made Garak even more unsure, even though the Doctor had had plenty of time to examine his body last night. And from much less flattering angles he was sure. 

Garak handed him the tea and quickly slipped under the covers again. He mimicked Bashir's position and sat next to him, blowing on the hot liquid in his own cup. Bashir leaned into his side, laying his head on Garak's shoulder. "I hope I'm not keeping you from your shop.", he said, not looking or sounding like he actually cared. 

"Oh no, Doctor not at all", Garak said "I closed it for today in anticipation of the party." 

"Julian", Bashir said. 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"I think you might as well call me Julian now, after all... this", he gestured at the both of them, grinning teasingly. 

"Right. Julian.", Garak repeated, tasting the name on his tongue, smiling. 

For a moment both of them were silent, sipping their tea, until the Doctor asked the question hanging in the air. 

"May I... call you Elim?" 

When Garak didn't respond right away he hastily added "You don't have to say yes, it was just an idea..." He lifted his head from Garak's shoulder. 

"No, it is...", Garak began, then interrupting himself. 

He knew that Tain had told Bashir, no Julian he corrected himself, his first name, but he had never used it. What else might Tain have said about him? 

"It is simply that I have spent such a long time as 'plain simple Garak' that my own first name feels... unfamiliar to me." 

It was true, being Elim to someone again was almost daunting. When had he become so sentimental, he wondered. Then he shook out of it. 

"Please my dear, call me Elim.", he smiled to underline the offer. 

Julian relaxed again and placed his head back on Garak's shoulder. 

"Elim", he whispered with warmth in his voice. It was one of the most beautiful sounds Garak had ever heard. 

Then his mind kicked in again. 

"Julian", he began, unsure how to phrase it "I would appreciate it if _this_... could be handled discretely." 

The Doctor looked up again and exhaled audibly. "I had a feeling you would say that. You want me to keep it secret? Fine. So I'm guessing this is a one time deal?" 

He had already straightened up, anger and a bit of hurt on his face. 

"On the contrary my dear", Garak said with a soothing smile, laying a hand on his arm. "unless you want it to be. I merely suggested we keep _this_ to ourselves. Station-gossip can be quite annoying." 

Both of them knew Garak was concerned about more than gossip but Julian smiled at him anyway. 

"Alright", he sighed "if it makes you happy." 

"Very", Garak smiled. "And if I'm not keeping you from anything...?", Julian shook his head "then I might know something to make you happier as well" 

Garak took the mug out of Julian's hands and leaned over him to place it and his own on the night stand. Then he let his hands run over the Doctor's chest, following them with his mouth. His lips stopped at the left nipple and he circled it lightly with his tongue while he kneaded the other one between his fingers. 

"Mhmm, if you're trying to, aah... buy my secrecy, it's... working", Julian got out between pleased sighs. 

"Are you bought so easily?", Garak teased. 

Julian laughed "I'm afraid, hmm... not, you're gonna have to do better." 

"Well, let's see about that." 

Garak loosened his mouth from Julian's nipple and pressed it to his lips instead. He slipped his tongue inside and roamed around, the Doctor tasted of the Tarkalean tea. His hand slipped further down over the abdomen towards Julian's cock, which was already standing to attention. Garak stroked along his length teasingly and it brought him a small moan from the Doctor. 

Then he lowered himself down under the covers, gently pushing Julian's legs apart so there was space between them for him. His face was now on a level with the Doctor's groin and he placed a few rough kisses on the insides of his thighs. Then he sucked the tip of the cock between his lips. 

Julian gasped audibly. Garak swirled his tongue around, gradually taking more of the length into his mouth. 

"Mmhhmmm, Elim, that feels fantastic.", the Doctor sighed. Garak could feel him push his hips upwards. The Cardassian placed both hands at Julian's sides and gently steadied him while lowering his lips all the way to the base. He moved up and down a few times experimentally, the Doctor emitted a low moan. 

Garak set a leisurely pace while Julian started to breathe heavily. Then, only very lightly, he grazed his teeth along. 

Julian's breath hitched audibly in his throat and then came out as a groaned "Aaaahh" 

The sounds this man could produce were amazing, Garak's slit was throbbing with want just listening. 

He moved faster and the panting got more desperate. 

"Mmhhmm, Elim... wait" 

Garak stopped. 

"I... I want to... may I... I'd like to see you.", Julian stuttered, still breathing hard. 

Garak understood. He loosened his mouth from the Doctor's cock and resurfaced from the covers. Julian pulled him in for a hot kiss while simultaneously feeling around for Garak's slit. When he had found it he gently pressed two fingers inside. Garak leaned into the touch and sighed deeply. 

After a few circling motions his cock everted, fully erect. Julian took hold of it and let his fingers run along the two ridges. Oh that felt good, but he wanted something else. 

Garak rose above the Doctor, rearranged his legs to both sides and groped between them. He guided Julian's cock into his slit and lowered himself down carefully until he was sitting on the Doctor's hips. 

Julian looked at him with bright eyes, placing his hands at the juncture between thighs and hip, squeezing lightly. Garak rocked up and down slowly and the expression on the Doctor's face changed to one of bliss. Lips slightly parted in a silent "Oh". 

Garak started a regular rocking-motion and Julian's hands dug into the flesh at his sides. Garak liked the pressure. Leaning forward a bit he changed the angle, placing his hands next to the Doctor's shoulders on the mattress. 

Both of them were panting. Julian moved his hands to Garak's behind, squeezing and intensifying the motions. He felt wonderfully warm under him. 

The little pleased sighs and groans spurred Garak on to move faster and push deeper. Julian's hands stroked his thighs now, then wandered up to his sides. He kneaded along the ridges there and Garak couldn't suppress a deep moan. Soothingly the Doctor placed his hands over the ridges and stroked them lightly while caressing the soft scales on Garak's belly with his thumbs. It felt embarrassingly good. 

Garak shifted the angle again by leaning back and placing his arms behind him. He thrust harder, already feeling the heat pool in his stomach. 

Julian had used the different angle to move his hands to Garak's front, alternately stroking and kneading. Then finally turning his attention to Garak's cock bobbing between them. He stroked it with one hand, the other one placed on Garak's belly to steady himself. 

Julian's hand was warm, mirroring the heat building inside and Garak could feel himself sailing smoothly over the edge. The orgasm forced his eyes shut, and he threw his head back while the wave crashed over him with a deep sigh. 

He continued his motions a bit more slowly, thighs quivering, and when he opened his eyes again Julian looked at him with unabashed adoration. It only took a few seconds more until the Doctor came too with a most wonderful groan. 

Then Garak collapsed on Julian, exhausted. His stamina wasn't what it used to be. 

The Doctor pulled the covers over them and wound his arms around him, stroking his back. They lay like that for some time, just enjoying the closeness, occasionally trading sloppy kisses. 

Then Garak asked "So, did it work?" 

"Huh? Did what work?" 

"Buying your secrecy of course, that was after all the point of this exercise, wasn't it?", Garak teased. 

Julian laughed and it vibrated through Garak's body. "Yes, you did it, you have bought my silence. Lovely doing commerce with you. Though I hope you don't treat all of your customers this way." 

"Oh, only the very special ones I can assure you.", Garak grinned. 

The Doctor chuckled and pulled him in for a long kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit shorter but the next will make up for it, I promise. A lot of plot in the next one, this one is mainly fluff and a bit of banter :)

The Doctor was a lot better at hiding their little affair than he had anticipated.

Either Garak had had a significant influence on him in that regard or he was simply a natural, the talent only now surfacing. 

Julian told him that on his way back to his quarters, after they had spent the remainder of the day in bed together, he had encountered Lieutenant Dax of all people. 

Dax, seeing that Julian still wore the clothes from the day before, had immediately begun questioning him. With an incredible presence of mind the Doctor had come up with a cover story. He told Jadzia that he had met a charming young man outside of Quark's when he stepped out to take a break from the party. They got talking and Julian fetched them both a drink, one thing led to another and they went to where the young man was staying. Having spent the night they decided to also spend the day together since it was his last on the station. The freighter he worked on left just five minutes ago. 

Apparently the Lieutenant had bought it, merrily going on her way with a playful "Good for you!", probably telling the next best person she met. 

When Julian relayed this to Garak over dinner the next day, the Cardassian complimented him on the well-fabricated story. The Doctor didn't seem as delighted as he had hoped he'd be. 

"I don't know Elim", he said, using Garak's first name since they were dining in the Cardassian's quarters. "Hiding and not telling anybody is one thing, but actively lying to my friends..." 

"Oh Julian", Garak said, a tad irritated at the Doctor's moral objections. "Try and look at it like this: It's none of your friends' business with whom you share a bed, and if they don't respect that they should expect being lied to." He speared a cherry tomato on his fork and popped it into his mouth with a satisfied smile. 

The Doctor didn't seem convinced and shook his head. "They don't ask because they're nosy. OK, well, Jadzia probably did. But apart from that they just want to know what's going on in my life because they care about me." 

"So what would they say about this if they knew?" 

"I'd imagine they would be concerned", Julian answered truthfully. 

"Oh?", Garak asked raising his eyeridges but already knowing the answer. "Is it because I'm a little bit older than you?", he teased. 

The Doctor snorted. "Yeah I imagine it's exactly that. And maybe that other little thing where you used to be a spy in the Obsidian Order. But mostly the age I think." 

Garak grinned at Julian "Just because we're having sex, my dear, I won't suddenly confess to your ludicrous allegations." 

"Plain simple Elim Garak, I know I know.", Julian said "Well, it was worth a try." 

"Was that the plan?", Garak asked with a teasing smile "to get me into bed and in the throes of passion uncover my dark past?" 

Now Julian was wearing a wicked grin as well "Not that I know of, but it's actually not a bad idea. Doesn't seem to have worked yet, but I could try again if you're up to it." He had placed his hand over Garak's on the table. 

Garak enjoyed this new side to the Doctor. He had always been an interesting conversational partner, if maybe a little too hung up on Federation morality. But this switch from friendly charme to seductive wit was something Garak hadn't envisioned. 

Which brought him to a question he had meant to ask. 

"I'm not one to refuse a challenge", Garak answered Julian's statement with a sultry smirk. "But if this wasn't a well-crafted longterm plan to expose me, what took you so long? It's not like I was terribly subtle about my intentions when we first met." 

The Doctor blinked, then laughed. "Well... to be honest it wasn't all that clear to me. It takes a while to read you, you know? I mean, part of me thought I was _really_ just in your shop to buy a suit." 

Garak chuckled, remembering the incident involving the Duras sisters. 

"And now you are an expert I presume?" 

"Far from it", Julian said "but I've gotten better over the years.", he smiled. 

"Even though, my question stands.", Garak insisted "What changed that made you consider me?" 

"Are you fishing for compliments?", Julian looked amused "Maybe you want me to tell you that finally I succumbed to your blue eyes, waxing poetically about all your attractive attributes? Cause I will totally do it." 

"No thank you", Garak declined, although the prospect was a tempting one. "You are derailing my simple question." 

The Doctor got more serious "I'm not really sure myself.", he began playing with Garak's hand absentmindedly. "I think I've always been attracted to you, but... I was a little intimidated. And everything that has happened in the last few weeks, especially the incident with the Lethean, reminded me that... well, life is short.", he shrugged, looking at Garak with those big eyes. 

The Cardassian's heart made an unexpected leap. What had he gotten himself into? 

Probably a question better asked later, when the catalyst for it had gone. Right now he didn't want him gone, quite the opposite. 

Garak turned his hand around, grabbing Julian's and stroking the fingers lightly with his thumb. 

"Curious", he said "Suddenly I'm not very hungry anymore." 

Having cleared his plate already, the Doctor said "Well I am... but for something a little different." 

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that Garak thought he could very much get used to. 

They barely made it to the sofa, sinking down in a pile of arms and legs, hastily shedding clothes. 

The following three weeks they fell into an easy routine. Most nights they would eat dinner together in Garak's quarters and Julian would stay the night. Garak insisted on meeting in his quarters, justifying it to the Doctor with the environmental controls. If he had to live on DS9 as a Cardassian, he said, being perpetually cold, at least in his free time he wanted to feel comfortable. Which Julian found to be an actually reasonable request. His understanding wavered a bit though when Garak started criticizing his taste in interior design. 

Though being part of the reason Garak preferred his own living space, the main reason was that he could be sure there were no cameras or listening devices hidden anywhere. Probably the very last thing he wanted was for the Order to have video or audio footage of him coming undone at the hands of a very skilled human doctor. It was nice. Not just the sex, but having someone there to spend the evening with. Often they would curl up together and talk, sometimes read separately. They kept to their usual lunch schedule as not to raise suspicion. It worked well, although the Chief got more and more grumpy as Julian didn't spend as much time with him as he used to. 

"Eventually he will calm down.", the Doctor said "he was like that when I did the research on Bajoran antibodies for Starfleet and was working late for two weeks. He's just bored because Keiko and Molly are gone." 

"What does he think you're doing?", Garak asked. 

"I've told him different excuses, but he's not buying it. He thinks it's a new girlfriend and he's furious that I won't tell him who." 

Garak chuckled "Have you given him any reason as to why you can't tell him?" 

Julian looked a bit embarrassed "Well... I told him that her father may or may not be a big number in the Orion Syndicate and disapproves of humans, especially Starfleet Officers. And if I told anyone my life might be in danger." 

Garak laughed heartily at this, typically Julian with his love for adventure stories. He doubted that O'Brien would fall for such an obvious lie but as long as he didn't find out the truth it didn't matter. 

Though more frequently he caught himself thinking what would actually be so bad about it? The Order handn't given him any _real_ trouble in his exile aside from the surveillance attempts. As long as he stayed here and kept quiet what could possibly happen? Would they kill a Starfleet Officer and risk the political aftermath just because Garak was in a... well, whatever one might call this, with him? 

That train of thought stopped in its tracks though as soon as he saw the Fluxian.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've finally reached "improbable cause", and as you can probably guess this means drama for Julian's and Garak's relationship. As before, I've taken some of the dialogue from the episode. I'm trying to stay as close to the canon as possible, so if I haven't written about something, assume it happened just like in the show.
> 
> A strange thing I noticed while watching some scenes in this episode multiple times ( I take accuracy very serious) is that in the infirmary Julian hands Garak a padd after he treated the wound in his face and Garak just uses it like a mirror. But... those things aren't reflective at all^^ not sure if that was planned or not by the actors but I was amused. I rewrote it as a mirror cause that made more sense to me.  
> Also I misspelled Flaxian in the last chapter as Fluxian, oops^^; should've checked before

He was certainly no amateur, but neither was Garak. If he hadn't been rearranging the front display in his shop that morning, he might not even have noticed the Flaxian sitting in Quark's, just in line of sight.

As a spy one tended to develop a kind of gut instinct for people who were likely to cause trouble, and this one was off the scale. Periodically he would look over to the shop, sipping his drink, appearing casual as if just taking in a new environment. But his sweeping gaze was too regular, too precise. Garak in turn started observing him while fussing with some fabrics and going about his usual chores. 

He was sure the Flaxian was planning something, and certainly not a surprise party. 

When after a while the Flaxian didn't exhibit any sign of taking immediate action, Garak took the time to access the station's list of new arrivals. It wasn't too hard to circumvent the security measures. 

There was only one Flaxian listed, name: Mr Retaya. A few more minutes of research told Garak everything he needed to know. The man was likely an assassin, had been charged with murder but let go as a case of mistaken identity. He posed as a merchant for fabrics and fragrances, how convenient. That would give him a chance to interact with the only tailor on the station without rousing suspicion. 

Garak was well aware that killing by poison was a favoured method among Flaxian assassins, probably hidden in one or more of the fragrances. 

A brief moment of panic came over him but he pushed it down quickly. So someone wanted him dead. Not the first time that had happened. But what to do now? 

Killing the assassin discretely would be impossible without leaving him as a suspect. Garak needed to act quickly. 

Going to Odo with this and asking for help would likely result in him getting laughed at. There was no proof he could give that his life was in danger. And Odo wouldn't take him seriously without Garak admitting to having been a member of the Obsidian Order. No no, that was out of the question. 

Then it came to him. It was probably crazy, not to mention dangerous, but at the moment the only viable option. 

Bombs with a pheromonic sensor were another highly popular method among Flaxian criminals, and the plans for such a device not hard to find. A simple override on the replicator he normally used for buttons, needles, thread, zippers etc did the trick. He only needed to connect the tiny parts under his worktable, out of view of the customers. 

Finally lunchtime rolled around. When the last customer had left he went to work. The bomb was fairly easy to install though he needed to be careful not to activate the sensor before he was a safe distance away. The next time he would enter his shop the device would register the presence of a Cardassian and trigger the explosion. 

In consideration for the other merchants on the promenade, and not least of all his own life, he had tuned down the force of the little machine to a grade where he might well be injured but not fatally so. His shop would be destroyed but the other parts of the promenade would largely stay unharmed. 

The device in place, he locked up as usual and went on his way to Quark's without a second glance. Julian was waiting for him and would hardly appreciate it if Garak were to arrive any later than he already was. 

He forced the trained calm to wash over him. The deed was done, nothing he could do at the moment, he was going to have a nice lunch with Julian now and put the bomb completely out of his mind. It was unlikely that the assassin were to attack in such plain sight, no he would wait until he could get Garak alone. But that wouldn't happen. 

The Doctor was already seated at a table on the second level and waved at him with a big smile from a distance away. For a split second Garak felt like his heart was being squashed by a giant fist. Julian would be worried... 

A deep breath and the usual smile appeared on Garak's face. Leisurely he strode up to the table, greeted the Doctor and made apologies for his lateness. Sometimes he even scared himself with how good he was at keeping up pretenses. 

Whenever they met up in public they fell back into "Doctor Bashir" and "Garak". Just two acquaintances having lunch, discussing literature, nothing to see here. It was easy to pretend there was nothing going on, no soon to strike disaster. Just sitting there, chatting about the works of this Shakespeare fellow everyone on earth seemed to be so fond of. But Julian was practically hoovering up his food. 

"Doctor, are you in a hurry?", Garak asked a tad sour. 

"I have to get back to the infirmary, there's a lot of work to do this afternoon.", Julian answered inbetween chewing. 

A lot of work indeed, soon Garak would cause him even more of it. 

"Oh you're fortunate, I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with.", he sighed a bit more dramatically than he would've done usually. 

"Maybe you could finish those trousers I dropped off last week", the Doctor teased, still chewing. 

"Tomorrow", Garak said, the uneasiness creeping back now that their meeting was soon to be over. He decided to lecture Julian on not rushing through a meal in a vain attempt to prolong the inevitable, but it was no use and the Doctor seemed to get fairly annoyed with him. 

When Julian excused himself, Garak decided he was done with his food as well. He had barely touched it but the events of the last few hours had somewhat dulled his appetite. 

"If you really must know, I've been nibbling on Delavian chocolates all morning", he explained. It wasn't true, he had planned to eat the chocolates in the evening as a dessert with Julian. 

"Where did you get Delavian chocolates?", the Doctor asked amused. They started to walk towards the turbolift. 

"Well I promised my supplier I wouldn't tell, but since I deprived you of your dessert I'd be more than happy to bring some by the infirmary later this afternoon.", Garak offered, already knowing it wouldn't happen. 

"Why thank you", Julian said with a smile "I'd like that.", he looked very much like he wanted to kiss Garak goodbye but thought better of it. 

"Until then Doctor.", Garak said at the doors to the turbolift, a lump growing in his throat. 

Major Kira appeared, apparently wanting to talk to Julian, she greeted them and Garak quietly made his exit. 

Every step towards his shop felt heavier and when he unlocked the door his hand trembled. Get a grip, he chided himself. 

The door opened and he stepped inside. One step, two... three... then all he could feel was sudden noise and heat. Somehow he was laying on the floor when he could think coherently again. There was smoke and the side of his head hurt. 

Then Julian was bending over him. "Are you alright?", he asked, worry clear on his face. Garak's hearing was muffled but he could make out the words. 

"As well as can be expected.", Garak tried to assure him. Maybe he should've cut the force of the bomb by another 15 percent. "But I'm afraid your pants won't be ready tomorrow afterall." 

Julian looked about ready to slap him for making jokes in a situation like this, but relief mixed in as he saw that Garak wasn't seriously hurt. 

Once in the infirmary, the dermal regenerator made quick work of the wound on Garak's left side of the face. Of course Odo and the Commander had already picked up on the fact that the explosion had been no accident, and were questioning him about it while the Doctor was running more tests. 

Garak deflected their inquiries with his usual brand of humor until they finally left. 

As soon as they were alone Julian grabbed Garak's face in both hands and kissed him hard. 

"I'm so glad you're alright.", he whispered when their lips parted again. 

"I'm sorry to have caused you concern.", Garak answered, trying to keep his voice from cracking. 

Julian chuckled, but Garak could see that the Doctor was cross with him. He handed Garak a mirror so he could see that the wound in his face was closed up. 

"Someone should do a study", Julian said. 

"A study?", Garak asked innocently. 

"To try and figure out why some people can't seem to bring themselves to trust _anyone_ , even if it's in their own best interest." 

Ah, there it was. The Doctor objected to him lying to the commander and Odo about not knowing anyone who might want him dead. 

Little did he know that in this case it wasn't even that far from the truth. Oh there was a list of enemies for sure, but who had hired the Flaxian he couldn't tell. 

"Why is it noone ever believes me even when I'm telling the truth?", Garak asked exasperated. 

"Have you ever heard the story of the boy who cried wolf?", Julian asked. 

Garak hadn't, and told him that. 

It was a simple tale that the Doctor narrated to him while typing on a padd. 

"The point is", he explained when he was done"if you lie all the time, nobody's going to believe you, even when you're telling the truth." 

"Are you sure that's the point?", Garak asked. Humans had a strange way of interpreting stories. 

"Of course, what else could it be?" 

"That you should never tell the same lie twice.", Garak said. Then he left the infirmary, feeling Julian's gaze following him. 

He went to his quarters, after all there wasn't anything else he could do. The clothes he wore were dirty from the explosion and there was a little blood on the collar. He quickly shed them and took a shower. 

After that he felt a little better, at least cleaner. 

Curiously he found that he didn't really care about having lost the shop. It had been his workplace for the last few years , true, but he hadn't even thought about blowing it up twice. 

As hard as Garak tried, the computer didn't deliver any more information on this Mr Retaya and he gave up with a deep sigh. Now he could only wait what Odo and his team would come up with. 

His stomach then informed him in no uncertain terms that the half finished lunch had been quite a while ago now and Garak might want to consider providing it with some nourishment. He dug out the Delavian chocolates and opened one of the two little packets. Surely the events of the day had earned him that little indulgence.The other packet he kept closed to give to Julian. 

About two hours passed before he was ordered to Odo's office. 

Feigning surprise when Chief O'Brien and Odo theorized about the pheromonic sensor, he mentally congratulated them on being so quick. Now the constable would probably question the Flaxian, and as he knew Odo, Mr Retaya would hopefully sing like a little bird. 

He kept close enough to the board room that he would see when the interrogation had concluded. Odo left first, face as always unreadable, then Mr Retaya. From the self-satisfied smile the Flaxian wore, and the fact he wasn't being led away in handcuffs, Garak could tell there hadn't been a confession. 

In this moment, like in many before, he cursed the Starfleet judicial system. So ineffective. If he had been in the room... Oh it was no use! 

Instead he trailed after Odo unseen. He had a feeling the constable was planning on a different method to get his answers. Odo wasn't someone who gave up lightly. 

Fortunately it was easy to see what kind of instructions he gave to O'Brien, even without hearing them. Clearly the Chief was putting a tracking device on the Flaxian's ship. 

It gave Garak enough time to quickly pack a small bag should the trip take longer than anticipated. Having done that, he entered the Runabout and waited. 

"Oh, I was wondering when you would get here.", he greeted Odo when he finally arrived. "The Flaxian left two minutes ago. If we're going to follow him we'd better get moving." 

As expected Odo was less than happy about Garak's presence, but saw no other choice than to let him come along. 

However, the trip was cut short when, quite suddenly, the Flaxian ship exploded just as it was entering into warp speed. 

That shook Garak to the core. Now it was obvious that the person who wanted him dead was no petty little criminal who had supposedly been wronged by him and longed for revenge. No, this one was a big fish, someone with the resources and will to kill not only Garak, but also everyone who might give away their identity. Could it be the Order itself? But why? And why now? 

The debris of the ship was to be analyzed, and a staff meeting including Garak, was set for the next morning. Then he was sent to his quarters with a security officer who would guard the door. 

Once there, he collapsed on the sofa, left to his own dark thoughts. There was no use in speculating when there was nothing to go on, but he did it anyways. 

And there he had thought himself safe. Ha! Even in exile there was no leaving behind the days in the Obsidian Order. 

After a while the door chime ripped him out of his thoughts. An assassin wouldn't announce his coming like that, so he called "Enter." 

Julian was standing in the door. Without his usual overnight bag, Garak noticed. 

"Hello Garak, I just wanted to check up on you after the scare today." A nice performance for the security officer outside. 

"How nice of you, Doctor", Garak played along "Come on in." 

When the door closed behind him, he laughed a little nervously and walked towards the sofa, from which Garak had risen. They kissed briefly. 

"Hey", Julian whispered, then in his normal voice: "I wasn't sure if I should come or not, if you want to be alone that's fine, I can go... I mean, I understand." 

Garak shook his head "No, I'm glad to have you here my dear.", he stroked Julian's cheek tenderly. The Doctor's irritation from a few hours ago had apparently waned and he relaxed at the touch. 

"Though I'm afraid it would be better if you slept in your own quarters tonight.", Garak indicated the door, meaning the officer standing on the other side. 

Julian nodded "Yeah I thought as much. But we do have a little time?" 

"Of course my dear." 

Garak filled the Doctor in on the latest details as they got comfortable on the sofa. Julian had his legs pulled up on the seat, draped over Garak's and leaning into his side. Absently he toyed with Garak's sleeve. 

"So you really have no clue who might want to... to kill you?", he asked. 

"Not the faintest idea.", Garak sighed. 

Julian looked worried. "Well hopefully Odo finds something." 

"I'm sure he will.", Garak gave him a reassuring smile and patted his hand. 

"Hey!", Julian laughed "why are _you_ comforting me? I'm not the one in danger here." 

"Well, I'm more used to it.", Garak gave him one of his enigmatic smiles. 

"Right", the Doctor looked at him sarcastically "because the job of a tailor is famously one of the most risky ones in the universe." 

"Exactly." 

They both laughed at that and Julian nuzzled his head into Garak's neck. The Doctor was quite a tactile person, maybe a habit of the job. 

"You know...", Julian began "the thing is, I don't really mind the secrets, Elim." 

Garak raised his eye-ridges at that, but the Doctor couldn't see it. Where was this coming from all of a sudden? 

"What I don't like are the lies.", he went on "If you don't want to talk about your past that's fine by me. But please tell me that instead of making something up. Could you... could you do that for me?" 

Garak didn't answer straight away. What a curious thing to say for someone so talkative and open as Julian. 

"I will try and keep it in mind.", that was all he could promise and apparently that was good enough. The Doctor pressed a kiss to Garak's ear. 

Guilt raised its ugly head in Garak's mind, he hadn't told Julian that it hadn't been the Flaxian who had blown up his shop. But then again he hadn't actually lied about it, just neglected to mention. And anyways it was probably safer for Julian not to know. 

To drown out the noise in his head he pulled the Doctor into his lap, pressing their bodies tight together. They had enough time before Julian's "courtesy call" would become suspiciously long. 

He treated Garak with even more tender care than usual, placing little kisses everywhere he could reach. That sweet boy, Garak thought, it's almost enough to melt a hardened spymaster heart. He didn't deserve the sympathy, but he took it. 

Together they rocked into eachother without a hurry, clothes only half taken off, foreheads pressed together. All Garak could think about were Julian's smell and his warm skin. Just forgetting himself and everything around him for a while.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into more of a retelling of "Improbable cause" than I had planned, but I feel it's necessary to explore Garak's emotions and motives that lead him to join Tain. The next chapter will be similar, though I try my best to limit the dialogue from the show.

When Garak woke he had to remind himself that Julian had left the evening before.

He had become quite used to the Doctor sprawled in his bed, arms and legs sticking out in different directions, taking up more space than should logically be possible for such a skinny man. 

There was no cheerful chatter either when he ate his breakfast. 

The meeting involved Commander Sisko, Chief O'Brien, Lieutenant Dax, Odo and Garak himself. He listened to their findings with a blank face, turned towards the window. 

"... just before the explosion", the Chief said "there was an interference pattern in the transponder signal." 

"The interference could've been caused by a forced nutrino inversion.", Lieutenant Dax theorised. 

Garak thought it at the same time as the constable said it: "The Romulans! They use nutrino-inverters in their explosive devices." 

Obviously they had executed the Flaxian when he failed in his mission. But why would the Romulans profit from Garak's death? 

Commander Sisko asked him a question that inquired just that. 

"I have no idea.", Garak answered, face still neutral. 

"I'm getting tired of hearing you say that!", Sisko was clearly annoyed. "Do you expect us to belie-", there he was cut off by Odo. 

"He's telling the truth", the constable said "he doesn't know why the Romulans would try to kill him." 

Garak turned around and looked at Odo in surprise, he hadn't expected that. 

"What makes you so sure?", Sisko asked unconvinced. 

"Because if he did know, he'd already be spinning out an elaborate web of lies to cover up the truth." 

Sometimes he didn't give the constable enough credit. A bit close to home, that statement, but not inaccurate. 

"Well the truth is usually just an excuse for lack of imagination.", Garak deflected the dig with a smile. 

"If you want to know what the Romulans have against me, you'll have to ask them." 

Which was precisely what the commander did. 

Garak wasn't invited to attend the interview, but from what was relayed to him he gathered that the Romulan commander had been more forthcoming than was expected. 

They freely admitted to having blown up Mr Retaya's ship on grounds of crimes committed against the Romulan empire. Though they denied having hired him to kill Garak. 

Neither Odo, Sisko nor Garak believed them, but at the moment the investigation was stagnating. 

For the time being Garak returned to his quarters, still guarded by a security officer. It must be strange for them, a Bajoran protecting a Cardassian, but none of them had shown any sign of discomfort. 

For a while Garak thought about trying to reach one of his contacts on Cardassia, but then decided against it. It might be too risky, better to wait and see what Odo would come up with. 

He settled down and read for a while, what else was there to do anyway? 

Time passed and Garak got supremely bored. He hadn't heard anything from the constable for hours. 

Even though he craved distraction he messaged Julian, telling him not to come to his quarters in the evening. It would only raise suspicion, which was the last thing he needed right now. 

The Doctor sighed exasperated but showed understanding. 

"Well, maybe Miles is up for a game of darts. If he still remembers who I am, that is.", he joked. 

"Have fun my dear.", Garak said. 

"What? No witty remark?", Julian asked in exaggerated shock "No clever dig at how stupid this earth-game is? You must really feel out of sorts." 

"I'm sorry not to live up to your expectations.", Garak retorted more huffy than he felt. 

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over?", Garak could hear the fond smile in his voice. 

"Yes", he sighed "quite sure.", although he didn't feel it. 

"Then might I suggest you while the evening away with some music? I distinctly recall having given you a few samples a week ago." 

Garak rolled his eyes, which luckily Julian couldn't see. They had delved from literature into classical music in their usual discussions and somehow landed on the topic of current music. Garak, normally a strong defender of everything concerning Cardassian culture, didn't think there were any examples of worthwhile compositions younger than 500 years. 

Julian had found it highly amusing and called him an insufferable snob teasingly. To change his mind the Doctor had compiled a collection of popular music from around the Federation, but mainly earth. So far Garak had found all matters of excuses not to listen to it. 

"Well, there isn't much else I can do.", he gave in with a sigh. 

Laughing sounded from the other end. "You won't regret it." 

"If you say so.", even more laughing. 

They said their goodbyes and suddenly Garak was alone again with his thoughts. 

He might as well do the Doctor the favour, he decided, and dug out the isolinear rod. 

Where Julian had found the time to record a commentary for each song was beyond him. Some of them were well over five minutes long, giving detailed trivia concerning the making of the song, the artist or the meaning of the text. 

The universal translator wasn't suited to song lyrics, so Garak actually appreciated the explanation. Though the Doctor often went on personal tangents, reminiscing when he had first encountered the musical piece in question. Some of it made Garak roll his eyes, some laugh out loud. 

The tunes in question were mostly not to Garak's taste, but he had expected that. 

Then there was a song that was just prefaced with: "This one is a little older but it made me think of you." 

No further explanation. It was quite an upbeat number and Garak wondered what kind of connection Julian had seen. The lyrics were in english and he couldn't decipher their meaning. 

He would need to ask him when they met the next time. 

As Garak woke in the morning he had no recollection of when he had gone to sleep. He was still on the sofa, padd on his chest. 

Right, he had been reading late into the night. The noise that had woken him up sounded again. It came from his computer console, a message from Odo to join him in his office. 

Garak was on his feet quickly, curious what the constable had to tell him. 

When he entered the small room Odo skipped the greeting and instead thrust a padd into Garak's hand. 

"I think you might be interested in hearing that all of the people listed here have found their lives cut short rather abruptly in the last few days." 

Garak looked down to read the names and a sort of morbid joy overcame him. 

"They're all dead?", he asked unbelieving while taking a seat in the constable's chair. 

"I take it you're not going to mourn their passing?", Odo asked sarcastically. 

"Oh quite the contrary", Garak tried to keep back the laugh that wanted to escape his throat "In fact if these were different circumstances I'd be celebrating tonight!" 

Maybe it was foolish to admit this to Odo but Garak was so taken aback by the news that he couldn't muster a lie. 

The constable inquired further on these acquaintances, hinting at the Obsidian Order, but when Garak tried to deflect as usual, Odo burst out of his calm demeanor. 

"I've had enough of your dissembling, Garak! I am not Doctor Bashir, and we're not sparring amiably over lunch! Now, you dragged me into this investigation and you are now going to cooperate with me!", during this he was wagging his index finger accusingly at Garak. 

"Dragged you in?", Garak started "I don't know what you're talking...", but he was shut off. 

"You blew up your own shop, Garak!", the statement was yelled at him, which made Garak temporarily speechless. 

"Well...", Odo chuckled "I don't think I've ever seen that particular expression on your face. Is it surprise?" 

"Yes, constable, it is.", Garak gave back irritated "I'm surprised that you could come to this unlikely conclusion." 

How had he found out? Had Garak been careless somehow? 

"Oh, drop the pretense. I knew as soon as I spoke with the Flaxian. Assassins don't like varying their methods. He planned to poison you. I think you spotted him on the station and then blew up your own shop so that I'd begin an investigation." 

Check and mate. It was almost embarrassing to have been seen through so thoroughly. But then again it was Odo. He, like Garak, had an instinct for these kinds of things. The Cardassian cursed himself for underestimating him. 

Still he kept on protesting. "That seems like a very elaborate way to get you involved. If I needed your help I could have just asked." 

"But you couldn't be sure that I'd take you seriously, or that I'd help you. Besides, I think you secretly enjoyed destroying your own shop." 

Yes he had definitely underestimated Odo. 

"Well, I admit watching it burn wasn't exactly tragic.", he confessed. 

"Whether or not you want to admit it, you pulled me into this case, and now you're stuck with me. I want to know who these men were and what your connection was to them." 

Garak thought for a moment and then decided he had no choice than to tell Odo at least a bit. 

"We were all associates of Enabran Tain." 

What he neglected to mention was that one of the "men" on this list was actually a woman, but it was of no consequence anyway. 

"Enabran Tain, the former head of the Obsidian Order.", it was a statement, not a question. 

"He retired some years ago.", Garak explained further "He was, I might add, the only head of the agency who ever lived long enough to do so." 

Garak himself had on some occasions saved his life. 

"For some time we were his most trusted advisors.", he went on. 

"Do you have any idea why the Romulans would want you all dead?", Odo pressed. 

"I don't know", Garak was getting quite tired of saying this phrase, but he had no better answer. Then, reluctantly, he said "... but Tain might." 

"That is, unless he suffered an 'unfortunate accident' as well.", Odo theorized. 

The statement created an ice cold lump in Garak's stomach. His feelings towards his father were... complicated to say the least, but Tain's death was unsettling to think about. 

"That is a distinct possibility.", he answered. Then an idea struck him. "May I use your communications system?" 

Odo gestured towards his computer console. 

Garak typed in the complicated codes until the picture showed up on the screen. 

It felt like an eternity since he had last seen his mother. Her hair was now completely white, but she still wore it pinned up like she had always done as far back as Garak could remember. There were also more wrinkles around her eyes. 

When she looked at the screen she gasped. All Garak could bring himself to say was "Mila." 

"Elim!", she breathed in answer "I never thought I'd see your face again." 

There was so much he wanted to tell her, ask her, just hear her voice. Instead he said "I need to speak to Tain. It's urgent." 

"You can't.", she answered "He isn't here." 

"Where is he?", Garak asked, the cold lump still there. 

"I don't know. He left yesterday in a great hurry. He wouldn't tell me where...", she was obviously concerned. 

"Maybe he realized someone was coming after him.", Odo interrupted. 

"He's in trouble isn't he?", Mila asked. "You have to help him Elim. I know you're still bitter because of what happened between the two of you, but... you must help him, Elim." 

'Bitter' was an understatement but Garak knew his duty. 

"If you speak to him, tell him to contact me." 

"Promise me... you'll help him.", Mila insisted. 

"I promise.", he said and meant it. 

She smiled and ended the transmission without another word. 

Still in thought Garak said "I'll need a runabout, constable." 

" _We'll_ need a runabout. I'm coming with you.", Odo said. Garak had expected no less. 

They planned their departure for early next day, which gave them both enough time to prepare for the trip. The packed shoulder-bag already lay next to the door when Julian arrived in the evening. 

Apparently Odo hadn't yet shared his findings with anyone but Sisko and so the Doctor had no clue about the truth of what happened to Garak's shop. And Garak himself wouldn't tell him, at least not now. Tonight he didn't need that kind of difficult discussion. Seeing his mother again had put him in a strange kind of mood. 

"Who is she?", Julian asked when Garak had reached that part of the explanation. 

"She's Tain's housekeeper, has been for a long time." 

"And you're on friendly terms? How come you know her so well? Seems a little odd to know your boss' domestic worker.", the Doctor inquired. 

"Mila is a lot more than just a domestic worker.", Garak said. 

Julian looked at him thoughtfully, then smiled "You don't need to tell me if you don't want to. Like I said, I don't mind the secrets." 

And Garak could see that he meant it too. If he himself had used such a phrase it would've been as a manipulation tactic, the old 'but don't you trust me?'. 

He nodded in acknowledgement. 

"So tomorrow you're going to look for Tain? Do you know where he is?", Julian diverted the topic away from Mila. 

"Oh I know a few places where he could be hiding. Although strictly speaking I'm not supposed to know about them.", Garak had already made a mental list of spaces to check, beginning with the safe house on the third planet of the Unefra system. 

Julian sipped his kanaar. "Could be dangerous." 

"Very likely.", Garak agreed, and when he saw the look on the Doctor's face he added "I know how to take care of myself, my dear, believe me." 

"I know", Julian said "I guess it's just a human thing to worry regardless." 

Garak smirked, trailing his hand down Julian's thigh. For a moment the Doctor had an expression on his face like he wanted to say something, but then it was gone and he smiled at Garak under hooded eyes. He took Garak's hand and placed it on his hip, pulling both of them closer together in the process. 

They sat on the sofa, facing each other, Julian had one leg under him, the other one dangling down, and his left arm on the backrest. The right hand he placed on Garak's chest. It felt warm, even through the fabric. He brought their lips together in a sensual kiss. The conversational part of the evening was clearly over. 

The Doctor didn't stay the night but he escorted Garak to the runabout in the morning before his shift in the infirmary began. 

"I hope you know what you're doing, Garak.", they were on last name basis again due to the people passing them in the corridors. 

"So do I", he answered. 

"Is there anything you need me to do while you're gone?", Julian asked when they were turning the corner towards the docking place of the runabout. 

"Like what?" 

"I don't know... any unfinished business?", the Doctor said. 

"Actually", Garak said, looking around for someone in earshot, but they were alone in front of the big round door. "there is something." 

"Well, what?", Julian was clearly intrigued. 

"If you go into my quarters and examine the bulkhead next to the replicator, you'll notice there's a false panel. Behind that panel, is a compartment containing an isolinear rod.", Garak quickly looked around again for emphasis. "If I'm not back within 78 hours, I want you to take that rod and eat it." 

"Eat it?", Julian asked incredulous. 

Garak nodded overly serious. 

It took the Doctor a moment before he said "You're joking." 

"Yes, I am." 

"Very funny", Julian smirked. 

"I thought so.", Garak said satisfied. "But the answer to your question, Julian, is 'no'. There's nothing you can do for me while I'm away." 

In case Garak didn't return to the station he hoped the Doctor's curiosity would take over and lead him to discover that there _was_ in fact a false panel in the bulkhead next to the replicator. It didn't contain an isolinear rod though, but a written letter to Mila. Instead of eating it Julian would find a way to deliver it he was sure. 

"Then these are for you.", the Doctor continued their conversation and handed him a small packet wrapped in silver. 

"Delavian chocolates", Garak said "But these were meant for you." 

He had given them to Julian the evening after the explosion in his shop, like he had promised. 

"I know, I thought you might need them more than I do." 

"Thank you", Garak said with an honest smile. 

Since they were still alone Julian angled his head for a brief kiss. When they parted he said "Good luck." 

Garak only made an affirmative noise before he stepped through the round door and it closed behind him. 

Odo was already waiting for him in the pilot's seat. When they had cleared the station Garak told him about the safe house and gave him the coordinates. 

The constable also inquired after Mila. Garak told him just what he had told Julian, that she was Tain's housekeeper, it was the truth after all. That she was also his lover and Garak the illegitimate child of this union was none of Odo's business. 

"She seemed almost fond of you.", the constable remarked. 

Garak chuckled "Is it so hard to believe that there's one person in this galaxy who could regard me with a certain affection?" 

He had meant Mila with his statement, so why was he now thinking about Julian's soft eyes? 

"Well I could believe there's _one_ ", Odo said "but I wouldn't expect it to be someone who worked for Enabran Tain. As I understand it, the two of you didn't part on the best of terms." 

Garak wanted to laugh out loud but pulled himself together and instead closed his eyes. 

"You could say that. Tain was directly responsible for my exile from Cardassia.", he didn't go into detail and Odo didn't seem to expect it. 

"Then I don't understand..." 

"Why I would be risking my life to help him?", Garak interrupted. 

"Exactly." 

"Yes... I can see how that would be puzzling." 

From the outside it must look curious, but then what was a son to do but help his father? Even if that man hardly fit the term. 

Garak thought this might conclude the conversation but Odo pressed on. 

"Alright... you owe him something." 

"Ha!", Garak couldn't suppress his amusement at that "A logical deduction. I see why you're the constable." 

"But it's more than that. He means something to you. Something personal?" 

Garak made a mental note to thank Julian for accepting his secrets when, or if, he came back to the station. He was far too used to being the interrogator than to feel at ease as the one being interviewed. 

"Ah, now you've just moved from deduction to supposition.", he scolded. 

"You're not the kind of man who would go to such lengths simply to repay a debt.", the constable said sharply. 

Garak chuckled again "Are you trying to say that I have no sense of honor?" 

"Well, that remains to be seen." 

"Yes", Garak agreed. 

"You wouldn't risk going into cardassian space for just anyone. It would have to be someone important to you, someone you cared about. I think you were more than Tain's advisor. I think you were his protégé and he was your mentor. That is, until he sent you into exile. And yet, despite all that, you care enough about him to risk your life for him. Or is all of that just supposition?" 

The constable had a real gift for causing irritation in others. While he spoke Garak could feel the familiar anger rise that fell over him whenever he was pushed into a corner. 

"Very intersting analysis...", he said with a tone of voice that let Odo know he was not to be trifled with "very intersting. Particularly coming from you." 

"Oh?", the constable asked with blatantly fake innocence. 

Garak got up and paced a few steps. The runabout was quite a cramped space. 

"It's been my observation", he said, standing behind Odo's seat "that you always act from a sense of justice, or at least what _you_ conside justice. There's no feeling behind what you do, no emotion beyond a certain distaste for loose ends and disorder. You don't know what it means to care about someone, do you? People are just interesting creatures to be studied and analyzed." 

"Is there any point to this?", Odo asked without blinking an eye. 

"Only that I find it interesting", Garak continued " that you ascribe feelings and motivations to me that you know nothing about.", he bowed down to Odo so he was looming over him. "Or am I wrong? Tell me. Is there one person in this universe you _do_ care for? One person who is more than just an interesting puzzle to be solved. Is there, Odo? Anyone?" 

"If there were", the constable said "I certainly wouldn't tell you." 

Garak smiled at that and straightened up again. Of course Odo was made of stronger stuff than to break down under a little bit of pressure. 

"And that would be a wise decision.", he said and went to the back of the ship to cool down. 

Not that he didn't suspect that Odo was interested in Major Kira anyway. 

The Romulan Warbird a few hours later was certainly a suprise though. 

An even bigger surprise was the commander they were brought to. Enabran Tain in all his glory, a little older than Garak remembered, but very much the same man. Wearing a hideous knitted cardigan in various shades of brown. 

How freely he admitted having sent someone to kill him baffled even Garak, although he was used to a lot with him. 

Quickly the plan behind all of it was laid out in front of them. Together the Obsidian Order and the Romulan Tal Shiar had planned to exercise a first strike against the Dominion, bypassing their respective Central Commands. They had been building a fleet of ships in the Orias system for months. Wiping out the Founders, Tain said, would result in the Dominion collapsing without them striking back. 

Odo was visibly disturbed by that. After all, the Founders were his people, even if he had turned his back on them. 

But finally Garak had enough of the political talk and it broke out of him. 

"You'll forgive me if I reduce the scope of this conversation to something a little more personal. But why was it necessary to kill me and the rest of our former colleagues in order to embark on this excursion into the Gamma Quadrant?" 

"Because, Garak, I don't plan on going back into retirement when this is over. I plan on going back to my old job and my old life.", Tain said simply. 

"You were afraid we knew things, things that could be used against you and so you decided to have us eliminated.", Garak observed with a kind of detachment from the situation. 

"Like I used to say, always burn your bridges behind you. You never know who might be trying to follow." 

How often Garak had heard this sentence during his youth he couldn't recall, but it had been enough to permanently etch it into his memory. If one day he wouldn't know anything anymore, not even his own name, he would still recall this damned sentence, he was sure of it. 

"You always used to say as well", Garak taunted "that the Tal Shiar was sloppy. You never should have relied on them to burn your bridges." 

"True.", Tain conceded "They never should have hired the Flaxian to blow up your shop." 

"Actually, I blew up my shop. It was a way of piquing the interest of the good constable here." 

Apparently Tain found this highly amusing because he turned away and laughed heartily. 

"You blew up your own shop? You my friend, are a true original. If you hadn't betrayed me, things would have been very different." 

"I never betrayed you!", Garak yelled, surprising even himself with the force. "At least not in my heart. Why do you think I'm here? I came because I thought the Romulans were trying to kill you. I came here to save you!" 

Tain seemed thoughtful. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, Garak... but I believe you. You can go." 

"Excuse me?", Garak said, unable to comprehend what he had just heard. 

"The Changeling of course, will have to stay, but you're free to go. Your runabout is in Launching Bay 3." 

"Just like that?", Garak asked, still incredulous. 

"Just like that.", Tain confirmed. 

"Aren't you concerned that I might warn the Central Command and Starfleet of your plans?" 

There had to be a catch. 

"It's too late. Central Command will have a war on its hands, whether it wants one or not. And as for Starfleet, this isn't their fight. They won't interfere.", Tain said simply. 

"It's a trick, Garak.", Odo warned from the background "After all this, he won't just let you walk away." 

"It's not a trick", Tain said "it's a choice. You can walk out that door or join me." 

Had he heard that right? 

"Join you?", Garak asked, feeling cut off from reality. 

"That is what you've been waiting for, isn't it? To end your exile? To come back into the fold? I'm asking you to serve Cardassia again, by my side." 

Garak swallowed hard. That was what he had been dreaming about all these years on this poor excuse for a space station. Every day, hemming trousers and dresses, he had longed to stroll through the capital on Cardassia Prime again. Interact with other Cardassians, people who understood him. 

He could see Mila again. 

"You'll pardon me if I appear a little startled, but are you saying that all is forgiven?" 

"I can't forgive what you did", of course Tain would say that "but I can try to forget, to put it aside as if it never happened. So, do you want to go back to your shop and hem pants, or shall we pick up where we left off?" 

This was the last push Garak needed, Tain's monologue was like a siren's song, promising him his old life back. It rang so loud in his ears that he hardly heard Odo's warning of how Tain was the man who put him into exile and wanted him dead only a few days ago. 

"Yes, he is...", Garak replied "but it doesn't matter.", he clasped Tain's hand. His _father's_ hand. "I am back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Garak, look at your life, look at your choices -_-  
> (and yes, Julian totally made him a mixtape and Garak spectacularly fails at appreciating the romantic gesture, that idiot lizard^^)


	9. Chapter 9

Sitting there and chatting to Tain like nothing had ever happened was a strange feeling. As if someone else was talking, someone he hadn't been in a long while.

The person who was younger, ruthless, often angry. Not at anything in particular, just a general sense of agression against the universe. 

Life on the station had apparently softened him. 

When he remembered Doctor Parmak and his interrogation now it didn't fill him with a sense of accomplishment as it used to. The Doctor had been a calm and good-natured man, almost too easy to break. 

It would take some time until Garak filled his old role again. 

Their conversation continued amiably, reminiscing about the old days, until one statement from Tain made Garak flinch and turn his full attention to him. 

"... Mila may not be around much longer." 

Garak's blood turned to ice momentarily. 

"She knows a great deal about me, too much for her own good." 

"Well still", Garak tried to sound as nonchalant as possible "it would be a shame to have her killed. She's proven that she can be trusted on numerous occasions, and you'd be hard put to find a better housekeeper." 

Why did they still have to play this game? They were alone, nobody there to listen, so why couldn't he just say 'Father please don't have mother killed, what would the neighbours say?' like in any other ordinary family. But that was just it, they were no ordinary family, never had been. There was a set of intricate rules he had learned from a young age, were not to be broken under any circumstance. Topics to avoid, feelings not shown or suffer the consequence of disapproval and punishment. 

He still shuddered thinking about the small cupboard. 

"Is this a request I hear?", Tain asked. 

"Not at all" Don't show how much this means to you. "Just an observation." 

"No reason to pretend, Garak. You're fond of Mila." 

Really? Being fond of one's own mother? Shocking! 

"You don't want her hurt, right?", Tain continued. 

Garak felt the old anger rise "If you're looking for an excuse to spare the life of your own housekeeper", and lover, Garak wanted to add but didn't "you don't need me to provide you with one. You can do it out of the kindness of your heart." 

"Mila always believed you were innocent of betraying Cardassia... and me.", Tain said. 

"I was." 

"Of course." 

They sipped their kanaar in silence for a while before the Romulan Colonel Lovok entered the room. He seemed suspicious of Garak, which he couldn't blame him for. 

Then his first task in this operation was bestowed upon Garak, convincing Odo to relay every bit of information he had on the Founders. 

Well, that wouldn't be easy. Still he would try it in kind first, entering the constable's accomodations with a big smile. 

As anticipated Odo didn't respond well and all but snarled at him. 

"Why, constable", Garak said with overacted innocence "You seem positively disappointed in me. Well I suppose it's understandable. After all, I did pledge my undying devotion and eternal allegiance to both you and the Federation. And you and I have been through so much together, shared many experiences, and I know you considered me a close friend. No wonder you feel betrayed." 

The sarcasm didn't miss its target. 

"You're wasting your time, Garak. I don't care about the rationalizations you come up with to justify your actions.", Odo was clearly angry. 

"To justify?", Garak asked "I don't need to justify anything to you." 

The constable chuckled darkly "Living on Deep Space Nine has made you a little rusty. Your lies are becoming more transparent. You should be careful, you don't want Tain to know you're feeling guilty about what you've done." 

For a moment Garak was taken aback, then he retorted "You _are_ imaginative, I'll grant you that constable, but I would suggest that you put those creative powers to better use.", he paused, then continued "We would like you to share your _unique_ insights on the Founders." 

"Would you?", sarcasm was dripping from the constable's voice. 

"We would be grateful", Garak baited "most grateful for any information you could provide." 

"And if I refuse?" 

"Oh really, Odo. You really must stop reading those human crime novels Chief O'Brien gives you. It's poisoning your thinking. I'm not here to threaten you. I just want to talk.", Garak said, still playing nice. 

"I don't feel like talking." 

Why did he have to be so damn stubborn. 

"Surely, you can see that we share a common enemy, the Founders. By cooperating, you'll be helping us provide security for the entire Alpha Quadrant." 

"The only common enemy you and I share is Enabran Tain.", Odo said bluntly. Well it had been worth a try. 

"The difference between you and I", he continued "is that you don't know it." 

"I suggest that you think over what I've said, constable.", Garak said, polite mask slipping. 

"Funny", Odo retorted "I was about to make the same suggestion." 

At that Garak left the room, leaving Odo to himself. 

A briefing with the Romulan Colonel revealed the simple, but effective plan. They would bombard the Founder's planet until it was destroyed. Apparently the Changelings had thought the secret and isolated location of their homeworld in the Omarion Nebula didn't warrant Jem'Hadar bases to protect it. 

Though Tain was confident of their success, he wanted to make sure there weren't any undetected planetary defence-systems hidden. Which tasked Garak again with trying to pry information out of the constable. 

"Anything he knows about the Founders and their planet was undoubtedly included in his report to Starfleet. The constable is remarkably thorough in these matters.", Garak protested. It was the truth, he didn't think there was anything more to gain from interrogating Odo. 

Tain shook his head, which momentarily made him look like a fat toad. 

"There was a time when you were eager to begin an interrogation, Elim. In fact I remember having to restrain your enthusiasm on several occasions." 

"Well, then you should remember the pride I took in my work. I don't think that interrogating someone who can alter their form at will is likely to provide either amusement or information." 

Could he even remember the pride he had felt about every little scrap of information he coaxed out of people? Had he raised a legitimate point or was he subconsciously trying to avoid facing Odo in that function? 

"I wouldn't worry about Mr Odo's shape-shifting, if I were you.", Tain said with a dangerous glint in his eyes. 

The Obsidian Order, he explained, had developed a device that should prove quite effective in neutralizing him. But if Garak didn't want to, the Tal Shiar could take over. 

Garak knew that he was being manipulated, taunted, that he had become soft, had made friends on the station, with the enemy. But even though, he had no choice. 

He had to do it. Tain wouldn't trust him before he did. 

The device did exactly what Tain had promised and fear crept into Odo's features. A disconcerting sight for anyone who knew the constable's usual demeanor. 

They were quite alike in that way, projecting confidence outward, though in two very different variations. 

Garak knew there was something that Odo was hiding, and he had to extract it, even though he doubted it would be vital to the attack on the Founder's homeworld. 

It was cruel to deny him reverting to his liquid state, but that was how interrogations worked. Denial, pain, physical and psychological. 

Neither of them knew what would eventually happen if Odo was unable to become liquid. Would it kill him? Garak tried to push that thought to the back of his mind. It wouldn't come to that, he had been a very good interrogator, he would get the answers he wanted and Odo would be fine. 

Though as the hours crept on his confidence started to waver. 

Seemingly with every passing minute the constable looked worse. First his skin dried up, the hair loosened from the usually tidy backcombed mass and dark circles appeared under his eyes. Then flakes of skin started to peel away everywhere. He seemed in a great deal of pain, huddling in a corner, arms slung protectively around his own form. 

Odo glared at Garak from deep sunk eyes, wild with anger and pain."What's the matter Garak? You don't look very happy. Aren't you enjoying yourself?" 

He wasn't, and he wondered why. Years ago he would've been indifferent to the suffering of a prisoner. But maybe that was the issue, Odo wasn't like the prisoners on Cardassia. 

"There is no pleasure in this for me, constable.", he said truthfully. "I assure you, I am simply doing my job." 

"Your job?", Odo taunted, shivering. "Yes, this job you've been waiting for... all... all these years of exile. And here you are, interrogating a prisoner again. It must fill you with pride." 

"Odo, just tell me what I need to know, and this will end." 

He wanted this to end, he realized. They had been in this room for hours and he couldn't stand the sight of the fraying constable anymore. 

Odo screamed pitiful at a wave of pain shaking his body. 

"But... but...but you don't want it to end, do you, Garak? Isn't this what you've been dreaming of? Back at work... serving Cardassia." 

Yes, serving Cardassia... 

"That's right", Garak pressed "And you have information that I need, information that it's my duty to extract from you. It's not personal." 

Odo screamed again and slid down the wall, half delirious. 

"Odo, talk to me!", Garak yelled in desperation. He was the cause of the constable's pain, but his hands were tied, he couldn't present Tain with nothing. He just needed information, any tiny scrap would do. Damn the constable and his stubborn mind! 

"Tell me something! Anything. Lie if you have to, but say it now, please.", he reasoned, crouching beside Odo on the floor. 

"Home!", it finally broke out of the figure only resembling the constable in passing. "I want to go home!" 

"And you will, I promise.", Garak said "As soon as this is all over, I promise I'll take you back to Deep Space Nine." 

What was he doing? There was no way Tain would allow Odo to leave, even less of a chance to let Garak escort him back to the station. 

"No! Not the station", Odo's voice rang in his ears "Home with my people." 

"The Founders?", Garak asked. 

"Yes." 

"You want to return to the Founders?" 

"Yes." 

"I thought you turned your back on them." 

"I did.", Odo croaked "but they're still my people. I tried to deny it. I tried to forget, but I can't. They're my people and I want to be with them in the Great Link." 

It felt like a punch to the gut, a recognition of some sort. 

"I knew there was something secret you were holding back." 

"And now you've found it. I hope it's useful." 

Anger flashed in Garak's mind and he rushed to turn off the vile machine. 

Who had tortured whom, he wondered as he watched Odo melt and finally flood the small bucket. Garak put his head in his hands, sitting down at the small table. What was he doing? Was this really the life he had left behind? Had Deep Space Nine altered his being so much that now he had come back, he was a square peg in a round hole? Or had it always been this way, the distance only highlighting what had been there before? 

When Tain summoned him he had regained some semblance of composure again. Why exactly he lied to him about Odo's confession he wasn't sure. It didn't matter of course, wanting to go home may have been a personal secret to Odo, but exceptionally useless to their mission. 

"He never broke.", Garak told Tain. Dignity was important to the constable. 

Of course Tain dismissed the matter with a flick of his wrist, he had no further use for the changeling "Terminate him." 

Garak protested, probably in vain, but at least he tried, citing Odo's rank in the Bajoran Militia and his position on Deep Space Nine. Unexpected help came from Colonel Lovok, who agreed with him and proposed to take the constable back to Romulus for further study. Tain agreed reluctantly, throwing the Romulan Colonel a bone of good will. 

When everybody left the room the Colonel stopped Garak at the door. 

"Can I do something for you Colonel?", Garak asked innocently. 

"Why were you trying to protect the Changeling?" 

"I wasn't trying to protect him.", Garak protested "And as I recall, you thought it was a good idea to keep him alive as well." 

"My interest in the Changeling is based on what i believe to be the strategic interests of the Romulan Empire. But you... you seem to have a personal interest in him.", Lovok said. 

Irritation was apparently becoming a constant state for Garak on this ship. 

"Well, tell me, what else am I feeling?", he snapped "I've never been psychoanalyzed by a Romulan before. This is a fascinating experience." 

"You are a practiced liar, Mr Garak, but I am a practiced observer. And I can assure you, I am going to be observing you very closely.", with that Colonel Lovok made his exit. 

'Oooh I'm so frightened, I am quaking in my boots.' Garak didn't say it but he thought it so loudly that the Romulan might just have heard it. 

He was a practiced observer as well as a liar, maybe multitasking was an unheard of concept on Romulus, but it wouldn't keep Garak from keeping an eye on the Colonel in turn. 

The ship's bridge was fairly crowded when they reached the Founder's home planet. Everyone important enough was there to watch the destruction take place. 

And then everything happened so quickly Garak had hardly time to wrap his head around it. 

The first volley hit the planet as planned, thirty percent of the crust destroyed instantly. It should have decimated the life-signs read by the ship's computer. But it didn't. Something was off. 

Garak realized it first. "They're using an automated transponder to send back false sensor readings. The planet's deserted!" 

Then the Jem'Hadar ships appeared out of the nebula. One hundred and fifty. They were outnumbered. 

"It's a trap.", Garak said and he could see the panic in Tain's face "They've been waiting for us all along." 

The next second the alarm was blazing, screen filled with phaser-shots. It didn't take long for their ship to be hit and it shook violently, a number of crewmen going down. 

Garak tried to persuade Colonel Lovok to flee, but the pig-headed Romulan was determined to stay. Probably something about honor and defending the Empire, they could be as bad about that as any Klingon. 

Tain seemed in a kind of shock about his plan having fallen through so spectacularly, babbling "How could this be? What could have happened?" 

"I'm afraid the fault, dear Tain, is not in our stars but in ourselves.", Garak said. 

"What?", Tain asked, stumbling around aimlessly. 

"Something I learned from Doctor Bashir." 

What an odd time to think of Julian. To finally permit himself to do it since he had grasped Tain's hand. But ironically, only now he could appreciate the quote fully. 

As the ship continued to shake and everything came apart around him in electric sparks and smoke, Garak realized he needed to get out. Unseen by anyone he left the bridge. 

Taking out a Romulan with a measured blow to the neck, he took the guard's phaser and opened the door to the room Odo was kept in. 

But just as the constable had agreed to Garak's plan, Colonel Lovok appeared in the doorway. 

Though surprisingly he wasn't there to stop, but to help them. 

"Why are you doing this?", Odo asked incredulous. 

"Because no Changeling has ever harmed another.", the colonel said. 

And suddenly everything made sense. The whole plan had been the Founder's idea in the first place. To bait the Tal Shiar and the Obsidian Order into the Gamma Quadrant and wipe them out. 

"It is not too late for you Odo", the false Colonel said "Come with me. You can still become one with the Great Link if you wish." 

The Constable hesitated for a few seconds but then said "Thank you. But my answer is still no." 

In this moment Garak realized that Odo might well be the strongest person he had ever met. 

The Changeling nodded silently and then was beamed away. 

They started their way to the runabout, but Garak told Odo to wait for him there. He needed to get Tain. 

Whatever he had done, it didn't matter now. Garak had made a promise to Mila. 

"Tain, we have to go!", he screamed, climbing through the rubble and fire. 

Tain was still sitting in the command chair. Garak told him about Lovok in an attempt to get him to come with him, but it was no use. He still seemed to be in shock, reminiscing that there had been a time when nothing got past him. 

"We have to go!", Garak yelled again. 

"Go where? Back to Mila and my quiet retirement?", Tain asked in a calm voice, not looking at him. "I don't think so. I must be getting old. I let my pride override my instinct. Wouldn't have played it that way in the old days. In the old days, I would have kept Lovok at arm's length. He was too cagey, too smart." 

"I can't just leave you here!", Garak yelled at him desperately. 

"I always did have a soft spot for you, Garak. Another of my flaws." 

Oh this infuriating old... 

"Enabran!", he yelled, then everything went black. 

Garak came to again in the runabout, the left side of his face throbbing. Odo had punched him in the face and apparently carried him to the docking place. 

But they still weren't in safety. A Jem'Hadar ship was following them. 

It fired on their little shuttle until the shields were completely gone. 

"Odo", Garak said "I hope that you will accept my sincere apologies for all this." 

It only now started to dawn on him what kind of a mess he had created. 

"A little late, isn't it?", the constable asked. 

"Nevertheless." 

It took a moment before Odo answered. "I may not agree with what you did, but I can certainly understand your desire to return home." 

"Thank you", it came from the bottom of Garak's heart. If there was any semblance left of it. 

Then, as if their combined wishes had materialized her, the Defiant decloaked above them. She swooped in like a majestic hawk, destroyed the Jem'Hadar ship on their heels and a few more that had followed. 

Soon after, Garak felt the pull and slight tickle of a beam, and he and Odo appeared in the Defiant's transporter room. 

"Welcome back", he heard O'Brien say and knew it was directed at the constable, not him. 

The first thing he saw was Julian, already waiting for them in his function as Doctor and waving his tricorder. A breath hitched in his throat. 

"Oh that looks painful", he said and scrunched up his nose when he saw the bruise on Garak's face. 

"It is", Garak said "but it did save my life." 

Right in that moment the ship got shaken by a hit. 

Somehow, Garak wasn't sure exactly how, they made it and a course was laid in for the wormhole. 

Julian ordered him to sickbay and told him to rest and wait while he treated the other patients who had sustained worse injuries in the attack. 

He would've preferred to be alone but was not prepared to argue with Julian in Doctor-mode. So he sought out a chair in a corner and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the noise around him. 

Maybe he had drifted off because the next thing he knew was a soft "Hey", next to his head. 

When he opened his eyes, Julian was kneeling next to him, sweeping a dermal regenerator over the side of his face. 

"How are you feeling? Any dizziness?" 

"No", Garak answered "I blacked out after the blow but I feel quite normal, just a little tired." 

"Well, that's to be expected after an adventure like this.", the Doctor smiled at him reassuringly. 

Garak tried to copy the smile as best as possible but the knowledge that sometime soon he would have to tell Julian everything that had happened, created a lump in his throat. 

For the last hours he had thought he would never see Julian again, or the station and his burned shop. He had been prepared to leave it all behind in the blink of an eye for the promise from a man who still lived in the past. Tain had been unable to let go of his glory days and that had been his downfall. Something to think about surely. 

He was most certainly dead now, or if not dead, a prisoner of the Founders. What would Mila say? 

When Garak kept quiet Julian spoke up again "Odo is in with Sisko at the moment for debriefing, I think he'll want to talk to you soon as well." 

Garak nodded. He would prefer not to but didn't have the energy to protest. Better for it to be over sooner rather than later. 

The Doctor had taken away the dermal regenerator and switched it for a tricorder as he tried to look into Garak's eyes, who was just staring straight ahead with what he hoped was a neutral expression. 

"Are you alright?", it was almost a whisper even though they were alone apart from an unconscious crewmember on a biobed in the adjacent room. "You don't have to talk to me right now if you don't feel up to it, but... ", the rest of the sentence was left hanging in the air as Garak nodded again in acknowledgement. 

"I am not in shock, if that's what you mean", he said without looking at Julian. 

"I know", the Doctor said " I can see that." Maybe he wanted to add more but thought better of it. Instead he pressed a small kiss to Garak's temple. 

Then he straightened up and walked over to his desk to put away the dermal regenerator and the tricorder. His comm badge announced: "Sisko to Bashir" 

"Bashir here", he affirmed. 

"Doctor, is Mr Garak ready for debriefing?" 

"Yes, I'll send him over rightaway." 

He sighed and looked at Garak "Sorry" 

"It's not your fault", Garak said and stood up "Thank you Doctor." 

Julian furrowed his brows a little in surprise at the use of his title rather than his name, but didn't say anything as Garak left sickbay. 

Relaying everything that happened to Commander Sisko was painful, but there was no point in lying when Garak knew that he had already talked to Odo. The only part he left out was the interrogation, and apparently the Constable had as well, at least Sisko didn't ask about it. 

To say the Commander was displeased would have been an understatement but there was no talk of banning Garak from Deep Space Nine, so that was a small mercy. 

After that he got assigned quarters to rest in until they arrived at the station. Without bothering to take off his clothes he fell into the bed and drifted into a largely dreamless sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning!  
> So this chapter got a little darker than I intentioned. Garak has a panic attack and flashbacks to his childhood. Nothing that wasn't mentioned in the show, but if you're sensitive to these issues please tread carefully.

Garak was woken up by the door chime.

"Come in", he said, sitting up and forcing his eyes open. 

It was Eddington. Garak didn't know a lot about the man but he had seen him around the station. He'd always had the feeling that he was hiding something. Not unusual for most people, almost everyone had some little secret. But with Eddington it seemed to be something big. Probably just some kind of sexual perversion or fetish, that always made the top of the list. 

He looked as wary of Garak as Garak was of him. 

"The commander told me to inform you that we will be docking at the station in a few minutes." 

"Thank you", Garak managed a charming smile. 

Eddington nodded sharply and left the room without another word. 

When he disembarked with everyone else a hand fell on Garak's shoulder. 

"Hey, did you have a good rest?", Julian was smiling and fell in step next to him. 

"Yes Doctor, thank you", Garak smiled as well, trying to act as he normally would. 

"I was wondering", Julian said "if you might be hungry? I could certainly use something to eat." 

Well he might as well get the unpleasant talk over with. Apparently neither Odo nor Sisko had told the Doctor what exactly had played out. It was better Garak told Julian himself, although he wasn't sure how he would react. 

"I was going to suggest the same thing", he said "maybe we can go to my quarters? The replimat is awfully crowded this time of day." 

Julian beamed "Great! I just need to drop this off in my quarters", he held up the duffel bag slung around his shoulder. 

"Then I suggest you come by in half an hour, I think I need a change of clothes and a sonic shower first." 

"Alright, see you then", Julian headed off in a different direction with a little wave. 

Garak's quarters were exactly as he had left them not so long ago, but still it felt strange seeing them again. 

With a sigh he entered the bathroom. Mechanically he took his clothes off and stepped into the shower. He only stayed in it for the duration it took to clean his body, then stepped out and went to the bedroom to find something to wear. 

When Julian arrived, Garak had been sitting on the sofa for a while. Still he hadn't been able to figure out how to explain everything to the Doctor. He couldn't lie to him either, as a high-ranking Starfleet officer Julian had access to all mission-reports, and Odo would be meticulous in his, as he always was. 

But when he greeted the Doctor at the door there was no need for words rightaway, since Julian pulled Garak into a tight hug as soon as the door had closed behind him. His lips were passionate, joyful and spoke of longing. 

"I missed you", he gasped when they broke away. 

In a moment of weakness Garak pressed his face against Julian's neck, savouring the warmth. He couldn't see the smile on the Doctor's face but he knew it was there when the younger man stroked his back in calming circles. 

"So what happened?", Julian asked after a few seconds in a low and quiet voice. 

Garak sighed "We should sit down for that." 

Reluctantly they loosened the embrace and sat down on the sofa. 

"Commander Sisko or the constable haven't told you anything yet?", Garak asked. 

Julian shook his head "No" 

"Alright then", Garak tensed before he spoke the next part of the sentence "I blew up my own shop." 

Julian gaped and it took him a few seconds before he pressed out "You - _what_?" 

"I blew up my own shop.", Garak repeated as calmly as he could "I spotted the Flaxian spying on me and acted before he could make an attempt at my life." 

From there he told everything that had happened without leaving out anything, not even Odo's interrogation. 

To Julian's credit he didn't interrupt, he just sat and listened with an unreadable expression on his face. Unusual for him, Garak had always been able to read him like an open book. 

When he had finished talking there was a long silence. 

"You were prepared to leave all of this behind", Julian made a gesture incorporating the whole station. 

Garak knew that what he really meant was 'You were going to leave _me_ behind'. 

He only nodded, not looking the Doctor in the eye. 

"And you were prepared to hurt Odo." 

"I did not hurt him, I tried to make it as easy for him as possible, if he had cooperated-", there Garak got cut off. 

"This machine _did_ hurt him Garak! I don't care about your intentions, he was a prisoner. _Your_ prisoner!", Julian's voice had gotten loud and Garak flinched. 

Not at the volume but the use of his last name. 

"I can understand that you're upset, my dear-", he got cut off again. 

"You bet I'm upset! What the _fuck_ Garak?! Why would you do that? You said Tain was directly responsible for your exile, and then the second he shows up you're licking his boots again, everything forgiven and forgotten? Who does that? I thought you had more spine.", now Julian was yelling. 

Something snapped inside of Garak. 

"You", he growled "know nothing about me. And you know nothing about the life I led or the people in it, so it's not up to you to judge me, Doctor." 

"Well sorry if I thought you were smarter than that.", the sarcasm was cutting "I thought you might have changed", he added in a small voice. 

"Evidently I haven't. But I warned you not to trust me, didn't I?" 

"You did", the Doctor's voice was bitter "so now I only have myself to blame. Convenient, isn't it?" 

With that he got up. At the door he turned around and said "Goodbye, Garak." Then he left. 

For some minutes there was just static in Garak's brain, no clear thought, as if someone had connected two wrong wires. Then he felt the water rise, streaming in from the walls that seemed a lot closer than only a moment before. 

No, not this, not now, pull yourself together! Slow steady breaths. But his heart was already hammering a beat in his chest. A rythm to run, far away, but there was nowhere to run to, only this piece of metal, floating in space. 

The wave of panic crashed over his head, sending him adrift and gasping desperately for air. 

It was his own fault, everything. There was no returning to Cardassia now. Tain was possibly dead, Mila all alone. And he had just scared away the single person who had been able to give him comfort and companionship in his exile. 

Maybe if he had revealed more, begged for forgiveness...? If he had been stronger, better, just different. 

_'I should have killed your mother before you were born. You have always been a weakness I can't afford.'_

Tain's voice echoed through his brain. In his mind's eye he saw the closet door falling slowly shut and lock out the light. 

"I'm sorry", he whispered "I'll be good now." 

But there was noone there to hear him and take the punishment away. So he curled up as small as he could, arms tight around his knees, and rocked back and forth, breathing. 

\--- 

After almost a week of moping around in his quarters, Garak decided it could no longer be put off. He could either do something or just wither away, and he wasn't that desperate. Yet. 

So he got dressed and left for his shop. Well, the remains of his shop. 

It was untouched, black rubble everywhere. As he walked through the chaos he spotted a garment that seemed only lightly singed and picked it up with a sigh. He then used it to wipe the grime from a mirror that had miraculously managed to stay intact. 

It revealed a figure standing in the doorway, lit from behind so Garak couldn't see their face. 

"I just read the report that you wrote and I wanted to thank you." 

It was Odo, apparently he had seen him going in. 

"Me?", Garak turned around to face him "For what?" 

"For not mentioning my... desire to return to my people." 

"I consider the entire conversation as something... best forgotten.", Garak wished that he actually could forget it, but that was a blessing only time would bestow. 

"As do I.", Odo agreed. "Quark has expressed an interest in renting this space if you're not going to be using it." 

"Oh?" 

"He mentioned something about an Argelian massage facility." 

Of course he would. 

"Unfortunately", Garak said "I don't think commander Sisko would approve of such an interesting facility on the Promenade." 

"I tend to agree.", Odo said drily "But I do think he would approve of a tailor's shop." 

The smile Garak had put on faltered. 

"Do you know what the sad part is, Odo?", he paused for a moment then continued "I'm a very _good_ tailor." 

It was true, and in the last week he'd had plenty of time to think about what kind of life he could have led if he really was just a plain, simple tailor. Not born as the illegitimate son of Enabran Tain, Head of the Obsidian Order. Maybe he would have found true joy in the profession, not that nagging feeling of insignificance. 

The Constable was turning to go, but then said "Garak... I was thinking that you and I should have breakfast together sometime." 

"Why constable, I thought you didn't eat." 

"I don't.", and he walked away. 

Ironic that the man directly affected by Garak's actions had readily forgiven him, but Doctor Bashir hadn't. Then again Odo and he were in a similar situation, both separated from their people through circumstance. There was an understanding there that the young Doctor lacked. He had chosen this Space Station far away from his home and he could return to his loving family whenever he wished. 

Now that Garak thought about it though, Julian had almost never mentioned his parents. Well what was there to tell? 'My childhood was great, I never lacked anything and my parents regularly assured me I was loved and wanted' That made for a very dull story indeed. 

He sighed again and began clearing up the mess in earnest, trying not to think about the Doctor anymore. At least he had breakfast with Odo to look forward to. Although he doubted it would be an adequate replacement. The constable only read crime novels after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Garak, you don't know yet how wrong you are about Julian


	11. Chapter 11

Setting up the shop again didn't take as long as Garak had anticipated. With the help of Chief O'Brien's work crew everything soon looked as it had for the last few years. Though most of his stock of special fabrics had burned to a crisp.

Fortunately there was a backup of all of his design patterns and Garak busied himself recreating the most recent ones, albeit in simple replicated fabrics. It would have to do for the time being. 

Breakfast with Odo posed a welcome break from the immersion in his work, although the constable was a rather reserved conversational partner. 

"I noticed you weren't meeting Doctor Bashir for lunch the past two weeks.", Odo said almost casually. Though Garak saw the curious glance the constable shot him. 

Garak sighed dramatically as he put springberry jam on his bread. "The good Doctor doesn't talk to me." 

"Oh?", Odo commented. 

"Yes, ever since we returned from our little adventure, as you are probably well aware." 

"I am", Odo admitted with a smirk. 

"So then why do you ask?", Garak said mildly irritated. 

"I wasn't asking", Odo said "merely observing." 

"Well in that case it is a very good observation, well done.", Garak remarked sarcastically. 

Odo chuckled. "I'm sure he'll come round eventually... I have." 

Garak nodded solemnly and bit into his sandwich. 

Then, although he should know better, he asked "You don't happen to know what the good Doctor has been up to?" 

Garak tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

"As a matter of fact I do", Odo teased. 

Garak made a gesture for him to continue. 

"Quark informed me", the constable said, while leaning back in his chair "that there is a sort of rivalry going on between Lieutenant Dax and Doctor Bashir." 

Garak raised his eyeridges at hearing that. 

"Both of them are trying to win the affection of Leeta, one of Quark's new Dabo-girls. There is already a betting pool with Bashir as a clear favourite. Morn allegedly put quite a substantial sum on him, and Morn has a nose for these things." 

Ouch. That didn't take a long time, did it? But what did he expect, the nagging voice in Garak's head asked. 

Well certainly not this. 

He tried to look interested and said "Constable, I never knew you cared for gossip.", and topped it off with a mischievous smile. 

"I don't", Odo said with the usual expression on his face "but I pick things up here and there." 

"Of course", Garak smiled amiably. 

After that their conversation turned to more pleasing subjects but Garak suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore and ended up placing half of his sandwich back in the replicator at the end of the meeting. 

Breakfast with Odo became a regular thing over the next few weeks and it eased the boredom a bit. 

Whenever Bashir and Garak crossed paths, the Doctor would nod politely but didn't stop to talk or even say hello. He was often in the company of Leeta. Morn apparently had had the right inkling. 

She was very pretty, Garak had to admit. And young. And thin. 

He had taken to going on nightly walks across the promenade whenever his quarters started to get too stuffy and small. These days sleep didn't come easy to him. 

At night the lights on the station dimmed down and it was a lot more comfortable for his eyes. People were rare apart from some security officers on night shift. 

After weeks of absolutely nothing happening, one day suddenly Chief O'Brien wandered into Garak's shop while he was stacking some shirts in a neat pile. 

"Hello Chief", Garak greeted him with his best customer smile "what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you today?" 

"Hello Garak", he mumbled back, not quite meeting his eyes. There seemed to be something on his mind. 

Garak decided to help him out "Have you ripped the knees of your uniform pants again?" 

That was a regular occurence since O'Brien endlessly crawled through jefferies tubes all day long. But he hadn't been in yet since the reopening. 

"No", the Chief said "I'm not here for business.", he shuffled his feet a bit, then sighed and continued "Look. I'm not saying I condone what you did, because I don't. But you have to do something about Julian." 

Garak blinked "I'm sorry Chief but I'm afraid I don't quite follow." 

"He's driving me nuts!", O'Brien blurted out "For the past few weeks he's been moping around and he's irritated by the smallest things I say. At first I thought it was just because his rival from medical school was coming here on the Lexington but that was a week ago and he's still like that. Don't know how Leeta puts up with him." 

Garak tried not to frown at the mention of this name, instead he settled for a neutral expression, sprinkled with some surprise. 

"Well Chief, I'm not exactly sure what all that has to do with me." 

"He misses you.", O'Brien said "your lunches and the discussions about literature, opera and stuff. He once tried to talk to me about modern theatre, and I like theatre mind you, but when I like a play I like it, and when I don't then I don't. I don't want to have a conversation about _why_ , especially not while trying to eat." 

Garak nodded, understanding. 

"I just want my friend back", the Chief continued "it took so long to find a Darts partner, I don't wanna have to start all over again." 

"I see", Garak said "but as you mentioned, you don't condone my actions during the... _incident_ with the Constable and me, and neither does Doctor Bashir. He made that very clear." 

"Yeah but...", O'Brien made a kind of wavy hand gesture "I mean, I read the report, and in the end you tried to rescue Odo when you could've just gotten away alone. That counts for something doesn't it? The constable seems to have taken it well, I've seen you around, chatting over breakfast. I'm sure Julian will forgive you too if you ask him. He's just too damn stubborn to come on his own. Well you know him." 

Garak did indeed. The Doctor had an iron will when he was determined to achieve a goal. 

He nodded thoughtfully "Thank you Chief, for telling me. I will consider it." 

O'Brien gave a sharp nod as well in acknowledgement "Alright. And please don't tell him I said all that." 

Garak grinned deviously "You know I can keep a secret, Chief." 

O'Brien chuckled and then left. 

Interesting how most people who thought of themselves as upright citizens, were prepared to tolerate a more grey moral area as soon as it concerned something they wanted. 

Depending on how one looked at the matter, either the Chief had acted quite selfishly, just wanting his playmate back as he was before, and not having to deal with a part of him he wasn't interested in. Or he had genuinely tried to help his friend who was miserable. 

Generally, as Garak had learned over the years, it was likely a mix of both. Truly selfless acts were rare. 

But how true was the Chief's statement? Whenever Garak had seen the Doctor around the station he had seemed like his normal friendly self. Well, until he had seen Garak, then he turned to distant but polite. He lacked O'Brien's confidence that Julian would readily forgive him if he just apologized nicely. And O'Brien lacked the knowledge of their secret affair, which complicated matters quite substantially. 

Garak brooded on it for another few days. Was it even worth it? Julian seemingly wanted to move on and had already done the first step by beginning a new relationship. Garak had never been someone to leave things well alone, maybe it was time he learned to do it. 

But whenever he thought of that option, images and feelings of warm skin on his scales flooded his brain. That charming smile, directed at him. 

What he needed right now, Garak decided, was a drink. 

Cautious not to fall into bad habits, he hadn't permitted himself to drink alcohol alone in his quarters ever since that had led to him turning up at Julian's door in the middle of the night. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. 

So he walked into Quark's. Maybe he could chat to Morn for a while. 

Garak plopped down on a stool at the bar and ordered kanaar from a Ferengi waiter. The orange liquid burned pleasantly in his throat and he swiveled around in the chair to let his gaze wander over the other guests. 

It was a moderately busy evening and most of the tables were occupied. Morn wasn't in his usual seat and nowhere else to be seen. Garak sighed and resigned himself to an evening alone with his thoughts. As he turned back towards the bar though, he spotted Chief O'Brien and Julian at a table not too far away, each sitting in front of a beer. 

For a brief moment Garak's and Julian's eyes met, before the Doctor's face took on a displeased look and turned away. Garak swallowed and turned to the bar again. Well, that didn't help his decision in the slightest. 

For a long while he sipped his kanaar and, for the millionth time, retraced all the decisions that had led him to this point in time. Maybe if he had just acted dumb as a child he never would've been sent to the academy. Then he never would've joined the Obsidian Order, instead he could have taken up some menial job. Gotten married, had children. 

Suddenly he was aware of shouting behind him. 

"I've bloody well had it with your moods Julian!", it was O'Brien's voice "I came here to have a nice beer and a chat and all you can do is grumble! Sort it out and get back to me once you're done, I'm out of here!", with that he stomped towards the exit, past Garak. 

"Whew, trouble in paradise", Quark commented, who had just sauntered over. "Wonder what that was about." 

Since Quark's observations were apparently directed at him, Garak answered "I wouldn't know." 

"No you wouldn't", Quark agreed "Doctor Bashir still not talking to you?" 

There was no privacy on this damned station. 

Garak sighed, irritated. "No he does not." 

"Shame.", Quark tutted "after years of lunches with you he should know what to expect." 

"And what would that be?", Garak asked with a playfully dangerous undertone. 

Far from intimidated Quark continued "Well, he knows what you used to be and that you're not living on this station voluntarily. Of course you would grab the first chance you could to get back to Cardassia. But that's hu-mans for you.", he shrugged. 

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about", Garak gave back with an innocent smile "but just out of curiosity, who told you about that little incident?" 

"I have my sources.", Quark said, making an effort at a mysterious face. 

So he had likely put it together by eavesdropping on the senior staff when they came in here. 

Garak made a derisive noise and downed the rest of his drink. 

"Another one?" 

Always the attentive barkeeper. 

"If you please", Garak answered and was soon rewarded with another glass of kanaar. 

As he sipped, and Quark returned to his other customers, Garak turned on his stool and looked towards the table O'Brien had left out of the corner of his eye. 

Julian still sat there over his beer, a miserable expression on his face as he gazed into the glass. 

"You could just go over there", Quark was suddenly standing next to him again and Garak almost jumped. 

He was really getting irritated now by how many people had apparently decided to meddle in his private affairs. 

"Maybe I will", he said icy "just to get away from the nosy bartender." 

Quark only chuckled, but now that Garak had made the statement, he had to follow through. 

He grabbed his drink and marched towards the table even though his heart had decided pumping so much oxygen through his body he felt almost dizzy was a good idea. Maybe it was the kanaar. 

When he arrived, Julian looked up at him and his face darkened. Without a greeting he said "Don't think you can just smooth this over with a little charme like the last time." 

Touché. 

For a few seconds Garak was taken aback. 

"I wasn't going to. May I sit?" 

Julian thought for a moment, then gestured towards the empty chair the Chief had left. 

When the Doctor didn't say anything, Garak continued "Quite some people seem concerned that we are not on speaking terms lately." 

Julian raised an eyebrow "Who?" 

"Quark just now, for once.", Garak gave a nod with the head towards the bar and the Doctor scoffed. "Also the constable, I believe his exact words were 'I'm sure he'll come round eventually'" 

"So, does he think that?", the Doctor asked rhetorically. 

"He does", Garak answered the question although it wasn't necessary. He didn't mention O'Brien's intervention, he had promised to keep the secret afterall, and the last thing he needed was the Engineering Chief's wrath who was responsible for all of the station's electrical and otherwise necessary fixtures. 

"And why would I do that?", Julian's face still spoke of hostility. 

Garak looked around at all the other customers. 

"Maybe we should talk about this in a more... private location." 

"No" 

Garak sighed "Fine", then he took in a deep breath and said "Doctor, you have my deepest and most sincere apology if my actions have caused you grief, that was never my intention." 

As apologies went he thought that was a pretty good one. 

Julian blinked "That's it?" 

Now it was Garak's turn to blink in confusion. "I am aware that an apology doesn't suddenly make everything right, but I would think it a first step?" 

"So you don't regret what you did?", the Doctor asked, folding his arms in front of his chest. 

"Well", Garak said "in hindsight it was obviously not a good idea since the mission was doomed to fail from the beginning." 

"But if a similar opportunity arose you would still make the same decision.", Julian stated with a face of stone. 

"I would do more background checks first.", Garak said with an attempt at humor, but when he saw the Doctor's unmoving features he sighed and dropped his voice to a level barely above the noise of the crowd. "You know I'm not happy on this station and it wasn't my choice to live separate from other Cardassians." 

"I know", Julian affirmed "But Tain? How could you just trust a man like him again when you couldn't even accept help from Sisko?" 

"He was my mentor", Garak said simply. 

"Yes but even Cardassian loyalty surely ends somewhere, especially when the person in question is the one who exiled you. When I met Tain he gave me the medical information to save you but said he wished you a long and miserable life." 

"Yes, that sounds like him", Garak said. 

Julian shook his head disbelieving. 

"Why are you so focused on Tain?", Garak asked. 

The Doctor flinched a little "I don't know, I guess it just reminds me of... nevermind." 

For a while neither of them said anything. 

Then Garak spoke up "It seems we have reached a standstill." 

"It does seem that way, yes.", Julian said without looking at him. 

There was a lump building in Garak's throat. Was that it? 

"Doctor...", he began tentative "I can't undo what has happened, but I'm truly sorry for the harm I inflicted on the constable. I value your company and would regard it as a great loss if we were to never speak again. Maybe, if you feel similar... we could resume our lunches... please.", he winced inwardly at how desperate he sounded. 

Julian looked at him for a few moments as if he was searching for something on his face. Then he sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping "Alright." 

Relief washed over Garak and he risked a small smile "I am glad to hear it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I expect for people on the station it must be like watching a soap opera^^ at least Quark and Odo probably suspect there was something more than friendship going on


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, there's a portion of dialogue taken from the show. The episodes are The Way of the Warrior part 1 and 2

It was awkward at first, a lot of uncomfortable silences, but with each meal they shared, some of their old banter returned. It would take time for Julian's anger to subside completely but Garak was positive the Doctor wasn't the type to hold a grudge for long.

The trust though was gone for good. And for the best. What wasn't there could not be betrayed. 

Neither of them mentioned the embraces they had shared mere weeks ago, it was as if that part of their relationship had never happened. 

To say Garak was fine with it would have been a lie too bold even for him to tell, but he preferred this arrangement to not talking to Bashir at all. 

The one who was truly happy was Chief O'Brien, he got his cheerful friend back. 

Things fell into place and soon the station's daily grind trudged on as normal. Well, as normal as it could get on Deep Space Nine. The only difference posed Commander Sisko's promotion to the position of Captain. A merely ornamental one, since that changed nothing about his position on the station, but doubtlessly pleasant for the Captain. 

What occupied Garak's thoughts though, weren't just his tailoring business and the lunches with the Doctor, but also the situation on Cardassia. Something he planned to bring up with the constable at one of their breakfast meetings. Maybe he had even heard something that Garak hadn't. 

With Bashir he didn't dare mention anything about politics, it was too fresh still. 

"Fascinating", Garak said to Odo's comment that the cup he was holding wasn't in fact one from the replicator. "So both the cup and the liquid are merely extensions of your body." 

"That is correct", the constable affirmed. "And if I want to, I can even drink the liquid, reabsorb it, and produce new coffee in the cup." He went on to demonstrate. 

Garak gave an impressed nod with his head, trying to hide that the sight made him feel slightly nauseous. 

"This way, I can give the illusion that I'm sharing the dining experience.", Odo went on. 

"Very thoughtful", Garak commented. Although what he wanted to say was 'how disgusting'. 

In the following silence he saw the opportunity and asked "Tell me, Odo, have you heard any news from Cardassia lately?" 

He was aware that his face had slipped from the friendly smile to a serious expression. 

"Not since they sealed their borders.", the constable answered. 

"Well I have", Garak said "and frankly I don't like what I've heard. Rumors of uprising, civil disturbance. It's all very alarming." 

"I didn't know you still had friends inside the Empire.", Odo said with a raised brow. 

"One or two", Garak said truthfully. Most of his informants had been in the Order and with some of them he wasn't sure if they had died in the failed mission or if they had stayed behind. "but I can't even get through to them now. That's what worries me." 

He hadn't been able to contact Mila, which was the most alarming of it all. Garak just hoped that she had left the city after it was clear that Tain wouldn't be coming back. She had a sharp mind and knew some of Tain's hiding places. 

"With the destruction of the Obsidian Order", he went on "and the threat of the Dominion, these are unsettling times for Cardassia." 

"They're unsettling for everyone...", Odo said, while his gaze wandered to the side distractedly. "But if I hear anything, I'll let you know." 

"I'd appreciate that Constable.", Garak thanked him. 

"Excuse me for a moment", Odo said, eyes still concentrated on something in the crowd. 

He got up and walked over to a few Klingons who were apparently harrassing Morn. Interested, Garak followed on the Constable's heel. 

"Can I help you?", Odo asked sharply and the group fell silent. 

The Klingon's leader looked the Constable up and down and then said something in klingon that loosely translated to something very rude involving Odo's mother, a whole springball team and a horned andorian bear in heat. 

"Actually, I'm not sure Constable Odo has a mother", Garak stepped into the conversation. 

"Morn, I believe Ensign Saunders was looking for you.", Odo said, then continued towards the Klingons after Morn had shuffled off "Gentlemen, if you have business on this promenade, I suggest you get on with it." 

"I'd listen to him, if I were you.", Garak advised. 

"I don't take orders from Shape-shifters!", the Klingon leader bellowed "or their Cardassian lapdogs." 

Garak found that rather rude. 

"I may be a Shape-shifter", Odo said calmly "but I am also Chief of Security of this station, so either move along or you'll be continuing this conversation from inside a holding cell." 

At that the Klingon growled. He seemed young, eager for a fight and a chance to prove himself. 

"As long as you wear that Bajoran uniform", he said with an obvious attempt at restraint "we're allies. Make sure you never take it off." 

Then he beckoned his men to follow him and they went on their way. 

When they were gone Odo said "I didn't know you spoke klingon." 

"Oh, you'd be surprised at the things you can learn when you're doing alterations.", Garak gave back, more out of habit than anything else. The constable knew as well as he did that Garak hadn't learned klingon as part of his tailoring business. But he didn't comment on it, they just went back to their food. 

Well, Garak went back to his food and Odo went back to his self-generated coffee. A good thing that Garak had never particularly liked coffee, because now he never wanted to drink it ever again. 

After breakfast he strolled into his shop for the day's work, but curiously the lights were already switched on. Shortly after he entered, he heard heavy footsteps and two Klingons stepped out of hiding in front of him. Another two of their colleagues secured the door and the leader, with whom Garak had gotten acquainted this morning, stopped in front of him with a sneer. 

"Well let me guess", Garak said, practically smelling trouble "you're either lost or desperately searching for a good tailor." 

"Guess again!", the leader grunted and punched Garak in the stomach with a force that made him double over. That was quickly followed by a blow to the head that sent Garak flying across the floor. 

There he was pinned down by two Klingons while the leader hit him again with an insolent grin. More blows followed, even a few kicks that he hoped wouldn't break any of his bones. He had never wished more that the implant in his head was still functional. 

When he cursed them in klingon they only laughed. 

"Is... that the famed Klingon honour?", he asked, struggling to breathe "Five against one doesn't... doesn't seem all that glorious to me, but what would a Cardassian know about that?", even though he was in a lot of pain he still managed to make his voice drip with sarcasm. 

It wasn't at all what these 'warriors' liked to hear and they continued to rough him up pretty badly, only losing interest after Garak almost slipped into unconsciousness. 

As a final touch the leader spit in his face as he and his men left. 

After a few minutes of just breathing, Garak managed to get to his console and call for medical attention. 

"I can't believe you're not pressing charges.", Bashir said almost angrily as Garak was lying in the infirmary under his attentive care. 

"Constable Odo and Captain Sisko expressed a similar concern.", Garak said "But really Doctor, there was no harm done." 

It wasn't strictly true, but a fuss was the least thing Garak wanted. 

"They broke seven of your transverse ribs and fractured your clavicle.", Bashir pointed out. 

So he had been correct about the cracking sound. 

"Ah, but I got off several cutting remarks", Garak joked "which no doubt did serious damage to their egos." 

He said it as much to comfort himself as to cheer up the Doctor. Humor had always proven a good coping mechanism. 

"Garak, this isn't funny.", Bashir said, frowning over his tricorder. 

"I'm serious Doctor", Garak said, with no intention of actually being serious "Thanks to your ministrations I am almost completely healed. But the damage I did to them will last a lifetime. What I can't understand is their inexplicable hostility toward me. Maligning Constable Odo is one thing, after all he's a Changeling. The Klingons don't know him as well as we do. But relations between the Klingon and Cardassian Empires have never been anything but amicable." 

The Doctor had listened to his monologue, tirelessly swiping a tricorder over him, which he now stopped and said "With the exception of the Betreka Nebula Incident." 

"A minor skirmish", Garak dismissed. 

"It lasted eighteen years." 

"It was ages ago.", Garak persisted. "Perhaps they decided they just didn't like me.", he gave a pitifully hurt look. 

"Not like you?", Bashir asked with an impish grin "impossible." 

Even though it was said in jest, Garak felt a little jolt of happiness. They were joking with eachother just like before. 

"You're right.", he said, trying to sit up and groaning at the ache of the healing bones "As always Doctor. They must have mistaken me for someone else." 

"Probably.", Bashir mumbled distractedly, inputting something into the computer with his back to Garak. "Will you need something against the pain? Your bones haven't knitted together completely yet, it might take two or three days. It's not a lot of pain but most people find it uncomfortable." 

"I think I can manage, but thank you.", Garak answered. 

Bashir turned around and looked at Garak, then went to a cabinet and retrieved a small blister pack of three pills which he held out for him to take. 

"Just in case." 

Garak thought about protesting but instead took the blister, smiled and thanked the Doctor before he left the infirmary. 

He did end up needing one so he could sleep comfortably that night. He didn't tell Bashir. 

A few days later Garak was pleased to hear that the newly arrived Commander Worf had given General Martok, and in turn his son, who had been the leader of the group attacking Garak, a royal dressing down. At least that was how Bashir described it over lunch. 

"Miles introduced me", meaning Commander Worf "they served together on the Enterprise. It's fascinating to meet him after hearing so many stories that he's part of. He delivered Molly, you know." 

"Oh?", Garak raised his eyeridges at that "This Commander Worf's talents seem to know no bounds." 

"It's a really funny anecdote, you should ask Keiko about it.", the Doctor said. 

"You know, I just might.", he gave Bashir an amused smile. "So... did the Commander find out the reason why our little station has been graced by the presence of so many Klingons lately?" 

"Garak", the Doctor sighed "You know that information is Starfleet-only, I can't tell you." 

"Ah well, worth a try", Garak grinned. But just one look at Bashir told him it was something Garak wasn't going to like. He would conduct some research on his own later. 

"You know", the Doctor said after they had been eating quietly for a few moments "I think Jadzia has taken a liking to him." 

"Oh? Do you think there will be a betting pool at Quark's about how long it will take her to claim Mr Worf as her own?", Garak asked. 

"I expect so", Bashir grinned "Miles thinks they'll get together quickly but it won't last." 

"And why is that?" 

"According to him they're just too different. Not just because she's Trill and he's a Klingon. Personality-wise. He's quite reserved, a bit mysterious and likes his privacy and... I mean, you know her. She's easy-going and extroverted.", the Doctor explained. And if it rang any bells with him he didn't say and neither did Garak. It wasn't a perfect mirror-description of their own dynamic but close enough to make Garak think the Chief might have a point. 

After their lunch, Garak didn't have any time to do the research as he had planned to, because unexpectedly, Captain Sisko ordered him to the wardroom, asking him to bring his tailor's kit. Bewildered but curious he did as told. 

When he arrived, the Captain was in conversation with Lieutenant Dax, the Constable and Commander Worf. 

"Excuse me", Garak said "I hope I'm not interrupting." 

"I'd like to be measured for a new suit", Sisko requested calmly. 

"Now?", Garak asked, slightly confused. 

"Right now", the Captain confirmed. 

"But Captain, I do have your measurements.", Garak said. 

What was this? 

"Take them again", Sisko said in the same calm tone, then continued towards Lieutenant Dax "You were saying?" 

While she was talking, Garak got to work. 

"I was saying that between ground forces and warships, the Klingons have committed almost a third of their military to this invasion." 

An invasion? 

"How long before they reach their target?", the Captain asked. 

"According to our estimates", Mr Worf spoke up "the task force should enter Cardassian space within the hour." 

Garak almost dropped his electronic measuring device. 

"Don't forget the waist.", Sisko said "I think I've lost a little weight" 

The opposite would be true, Garak thought, but instead he said "Well thank you Captain. I believe I have everything I need.", since this was clearly a cover to slip him the information Sisko couldn't give to Cardassia officially. 

He left promptly and as soon as he got back to his shop, contacted the person he wanted to see the least right now, or in fact ever. 

"The Klingons?", Dukat asked when Garak had told him about the invasion as quickly as he could. "Why would the Klingons invade us?" 

He had never been the fastest thinker. 

"According to my sources", Garak said, "the Klingon High Council believes that Cardassia has been taken over by the Founders." 

"That's ridiculous" 

"Is it?", Garak asked, getting irritated. 

"Garak, you have got to talk to Sisko", Dukat demanded "Tell him he has to find some way to stop the Klingons. Cardassia has enough problems right now." 

"Having trouble keeping the civilians in line?", Garak asked smugly. 

"How do _you_ know about that?" 

"I'm afraid that since the fall of the Obsidian Order, Cardassian security isn't what it used to be.", Garak gave back. 

"Yes", Dukat said dangerously "Shame about the Order. I suppose there won't be much demand for your services anymore. Looks like you'll be hemming women's dresses for the rest of your life." 

A true but rather uncreative insult, Garak felt. 

"We can stand here all day reminding ourselves just how much we hate each other, but YOU don't have the time.", he pressed "The Klingon fleet will reach Cardassian territory in less than one hour. I suggest you prepare for them.", then he ended the transmission. 

For a long while Garak was left in the dark as to what had happened, then the Defiant returned with the Council members of the new Cardassian civil government. And Dukat. 

Of course the groveling worm had switched sides as soon as he got the opportunity. 

But two could play that game. When the Klingon fleet, not amused about Sisko's little coup, threatened to attack the station, Garak quickly found the room the Council members had been placed in for safety. 

"That's close enough, Garak", Dukat bellowed, who had positioned himself in front of the door with two Starfleet Officers and was pointing a disruptor at him. 

"I wanted to make sure that the Council members were safe.", Garak said. 

"Hoping no doubt that your concern would curry some political favour?", Dukat mocked. 

"Oh, and I take it your concern is motivated _strictly_ by patriotism.", Garak intoned sarcastically. 

"Oh the Council members are well aware of my patriotism. And the sacrifices I was willing to make in order to save them.", Dukat droned on "Now, why don't you go back to your little tailor shop and... sew something?" 

'Sew something'? That was the best he could come up with? Really? 

"Because", Garak said "if the Klingons DO invade this station, you may just need... my help.", he raised his own disruptor "Who would have thought that the two of us would be fighting side by side.", with that he turned around and got in position beside Dukat. 

"Just remember when you fire that thing, you're aiming it at a Klingon.", Dukat grumbled. 

"I'll try to keep that in mind." 

First the station shook under the fire of the warbirds, then the ground troops started coming in. 

"I find this hand-to-hand combat really quite distasteful.", Garak commented loudly to nobody in particular over the noise of the battle, while shooting at a Klingon warrior just coming into the corridor. 

"I suppose you prefer the simplicity of an interrogation chamber.", Dukat snarled, fending off a Klingon with a Bat'Leth. 

"You have to admit, it's much more civilized.", Garak gave back, feeling the slowly drying blood on his face. 

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it ended. In the face of heavy Federation reinforcement, Chancellor Gowron elected to retreat. 

Somehow Dukat found a way to take credit for the victory, of course he did. Garak didn't even get the chance to see, let alone speak to one of the Council members. 

And he ranted about it at length to Bashir while the Doctor treated some minor wounds Garak had sustained during the fight. A task he could have easily palmed off to one of his nurses. 

"Oh I'm sorry about that Garak", he said in a warm but definitely amused tone. 

"Don't patronise me, Doctor.", Garak said pertly. 

"I wouldn't dream of it", Bashir grinned "come on, just see it as a selfless act of bravery, that's a reward in itself, isn't that what they say?" 

Garak made a face. "I'm not sure exactly who is supposed to say this kind of thing, but I'm most certain _their_ efforts were never overlooked like that. Which affords one with the blasé attitude to spout this kind of trite 'wisdom'." 

"Ouch", the Doctor snorted "You're really put out by this, aren't you? Would a drink at Quark's help to calm your wrath?" 

"If that's what the Doctor orders?", Garak said. 

"It is.", Bashir affirmed "I'll meet you there after my shift. I could use a drink as well after today." 

Garak was a little surprised that the Doctor hadn't planned on spending the evening with Leeta, but apparently she hadn't returned from the evacuation on Bajor yet. 

They sat at the bar, sharing a bottle of kanaar, talking through the events of the day. Quark joined them for a time and they all got into a heated discussion about root beer, with Garak and Quark arguing against, and Bashir defending the bubbly drink. 

Garak enjoyed the light buzz of the kanaar. He wasn't drunk just pleasantly woozy. On Bashir the Cardassian liquor evidently had a much stronger effect. He got progressively more giggly as the evening went on, to the point where serious discussion was hardly possible. No wonder, there was only about a finger of liquid left in the bottle. 

Garak had just given up on trying to make his opinion of 'The picture of Dorian Gray' clear, when Bashir piped up. 

"Did I ever tell you that you have a cute nose?" 

Garak was so taken aback that he could just ask "What?" 

The Doctor held up his chin with his hand and the elbow on the counter. He smiled drowsily with half-lidded eyes. "I said you have a really cute nose.", he giggled and pressed the index finger of his other hand to the tip of Garak's nose. "The ridge on it moves when you talk.", he elaborated, still smiling widely. 

From the corner of his eye Garak could see Quark, a little distance away, glancing over and raising an eyebrow. 

"That... is very flattering Doctor", Garak said "but I think you've had enough for today, we should get you to your quarters." 

Bashir pouted adorably but Garak insisted before he could reveal anything more... personal in public. 

He could technically walk, but swayed dangerously left and right when he attempted, so Garak hoisted the Doctor's arm over his shoulders to support him. Which prompted more giggling. 

"You're leaving?", Quark had come over. 

"Yes", Garak answered "I think the Doctor is quite finished." 

Quark nodded amused and Garak paid their tab. Then, slowly, they made their way to the habitat ring. 

The turbolift prompted an excited "Wheeee" from Bashir and halfway to his quarters he began to sing some kind of old earth song. Garak had to remind him that the residents would hardly appreciate his performance while they wanted to sleep, but the Doctor remained unconvinced. 

In front of Bashir's door they stopped and Garak hoped the Doctor wasn't too dazed to punch in his code, or he would have to hack his way in. But luckily Bashir was coherent enough and the door opened without delay. 

"Well, good night then Doctor, sleep well", Garak said extricating himself from under Bashir's arm. 

"Wait!" 

Garak waited. 

"Aren't you coming in?", the Doctor asked. 

"... I don't think that would be wise.", Garak said. 

Bashir thought for a bit, then looked at Garak earnestly. "Mhmm... maybe not.", his cheerful mood seemed to have dulled down considerably. 

He staggered into the door and leaned on the frame "G'night Elim.", then he turned around and stepped in, the door closing behind him. 

For a few seconds Garak stood still, then his feet set in motion towards his own quarters. 

Oh the offer had been tempting, though, people could say what they wanted about his morals, he preferred his partners fully conscious and able to make that kind of decision. 

Apart from that, Bashir wouldn't appreciate his drunken self's choice in the morning, Garak was sure. It was nice to know there were lingering feelings though, however invisible they might be in the sober daylight. 

When he reached his quarters he changed into his pajamas, then went to the bathroom. After brushing his teeth he looked at his face in the mirror. He wiggled his nose, shook his head at his stupid smile, then ordered the computer to shut off the lights and climbed into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian is an adorable drunk^^ and Garak does have a cute nose, it's a bit more snub than that of the other Cardassians :3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, just a short, kind of in-betweeny chapter. The episode is 'Hippocratic oath'

Bashir seemed uncomfortable about what he had said, the next time they met for lunch, though he didn't mention it. So Garak didn't press.

He wasn't sure yet what it meant, or could possibly mean in the future, but he didn't want to extinguish that little flame of hope by talking about it. 

They finished their discussion on "The Picture of Dorian Gray" they had begun in the bar. Certainly an interesting read, although Garak found the ending a bit too moral. 

The sins of their life catching up with a person seldom happened in such a spectacular fashion. Sometimes it never did. He had seen thoroughly terrible individuals lead perfectly happy lives up to old age when they peacefully passed away in their sleep. 

Garak wondered why Bashir had chosen this book in particular. As a not-so-subtle reminder towards him that the Doctor disapproved of his choices? 

Maybe Bashir saw himself in the title character of Dorian Gray. A fairly young, naive and handsome man, being slowly corrupted. 

In this scenario, Garak himself would supposedly fall into the role of Lord Henry Wotton, the catalyst to start the young man's moral decay. He smiled at that inwardly. 

"Is there any reason, Doctor, you have chosen this story for me to read?", Garak couldn't help but tease. 

But Bashir had become far too accustomed to Garak's ways to be fazed. 

"Oh you know me, always a hidden motive up my sleeve.", he grinned "no wait, I think I'm mixing something up here." 

"Subtle, Doctor, very subtle.", Garak commented, raising an eyeridge. Bashir chuckled. 

"Oh but before I forget", the Doctor said, now serious again "I won't be able to make our next lunch. The Captain has ordered Miles and me to do a bio-survey of Merik III, that will take a couple of days." 

"Duly noted.", Garak said "maybe on the journey you will finally find time to give 'A thousand days in the desert' a try." 

Bashir made a face "For that I would need at least five trips." 

"My dear Doctor, by now you should have gathered that most Cardassian classics are rather lengthy, that's part of what makes them great.", Garak gave back "Besides, may I remind you that 'Les Miserables' is not a short story either." 

"Well... fair point", Bashir conceded "I'll start if I get the time and see how far I get." 

Garak smiled, satisfied. "That's all I ask." 

The days were peaceful. There were still regular drills for Changeling attacks by Starfleet and Bajoran officers, which drove poor Quark half mad, but all in all it was quiet. 

There were some customers, but not many. Morn finally decided in favour of the earmuffs that Garak had placed on hold for him. 

He was just about to close up for the evening when Bashir came through the door. The Doctor looked like he had been rushing, a little out of breath. 

"Doctor!", Garak exclaimed "You're back." 

"Yes", he smiled "Good that I caught you, I've just come from debriefing with Captain Sisko." 

"So I gather your mission was successful." 

From the look on Bashir's face he extrapolated that wasn't the case. 

"Well... yes and no. But maybe I can tell you over dinner?", the Doctor asked. "At the replimat.", he added hastily "if you hadn't anything else planned." 

He knew fully well that Garak's schedule wasn't exactly brimming with social meetings, but it was nice of him to ask at least. 

"I think I could do with something to eat.", Garak said and Bashir's face relaxed "But isn't tonight your weekly game of Darts with Chief O'Brien?" 

The tension was back. 

"Yes.", the Doctor said simply and Garak nodded, understanding. They had likely fallen out over something and Bashir needed someone to talk. 

His girlfriend was probably not available. 

As much as Garak disliked being used as an agony aunt, he didn't see why he should refuse an invitation for dinner when the alternative was eating alone in his quarters. 

"Lead the way.", he said and locked the door of his shop from the outside. 

The replimat wasn't too crowded yet and they had free choice of a range of empty tables. Bashir picked one in a corner when they had both gotten their food from the replicator. 

He stirred his plomeek soup for a while before he began telling Garak about the mission. Garak had mentally prepared himself for a childish argument between the Doctor and the Chief, but that was far from being the case. 

When Bashir had finished his tale he looked at Garak, arms propped on the table and hands folded over eachother. 

Garak waited a moment before he said "Well Doctor, I'm not sure what you expected me to say, but I'm sure you can guess that I'm with the Chief on this one." 

Bashir sighed "Yes, I know." 

"Then why did you come to me? Surely I'm the wrong candidate for moral advice.", Garak raised an eyeridge. 

The Doctor shrugged "I'm not sure, maybe _because_ you would see it like him." 

"So you want me to explain to you why I would _not_ choose to stay on a deserted planet with a group of Jem'Hadar holding me prisoner and help them find a cure for their ketracel-white addiction, when I had the chance to escape?" 

"If you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.", Bashir said, frowning a bit. 

"My dear, it _is_ ridiculous.", Garak countered. "You are lucky both of you made it out alive." 

"That's what Sisko said as well." 

"And he is right.", Garak said, but he could see there was defiance in Bashir's face. 

He sighed. "You still believe you were right." 

The Doctor nodded. "I could've found a cure, I know I could, with just a little more time... Do you realize what that would mean?" 

"I do", Garak said "but Doctor, I still think Chief O'Brien was right. Sometimes you lead me to believe you have no sense of self-preservation." 

Apparently Bashir didn't know what to say to that. 

What drove the Doctor to such folly? Was it pure arrogance? Thinking he could single-handedly solve every medical mystery there was? Maybe some kind of hero-complex. Federation-nonsense, no doubt. 

A thought formed in Garak's head, and after a short silence he said "You know, I think I figured out which character you resemble." 

Bashir looked up from his soup. "What?" 

"In 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'. I think it's fair to say you probably cast me as Lord Henry Wotton.", at that the Doctor averted his gaze sheepishly "Don't worry, I don't take it personally. But _you_ are no Dorian Gray. You my dear Doctor, are a Basil Hallward." 

He looked surprised, then a smile slowly spread over Bashir's face. 

"Garak, I think that is the nicest thing you've ever said to me." 

Now Garak was surprised. "It was not meant as a compliment. You _do_ remember that all his goodness and morality gets this character stabbed to death?" 

"Nonetheless", the Doctor still grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. 

Garak rolled his eyes. Bashir was incorrigible, and he had now apparently just given him new confidence. That could not be good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I read The Picture of Dorian Gray, but after I randomly chose it as the book Garak and Bashir were currently reading in the last chapter, I thought that the theme kinda fit them well. I didn't dig too deep there, you should get what I mean just by skimming over the wikipedia page if you haven't read it.
> 
> The other book mentioned, 'A thousand days in the desert', is a made up Cardassian classic. It's actually what the title says, 1000 days in the desert, told in real time. That's why it's so thick. And it's very boring^^
> 
> Next chapter is going into Our Man Bashir and I'm SO pumped to write it, it's one of my favourite episodes :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really long chapter and basically a retelling of 'Our Man Bashir', but with a few changes that I think you will appreciate ;)

He felt faintly ridiculous, standing in front of the full-length mirror in his shop.

So this was what humans considered a classic elegant outfit? He stuck a finger inside the collar and tried to loosen it a bit, but it was still stifling. In its defence, the shirt _was_ made for a human neck, not a Cardassian one. Garak had made some customizations on the pattern, but he could only go so far without changing the whole look. 

And then the thing that went under the collar, tied at the front, seemed to serve no purpose other than to choke him. Apparently it was called a bow tie. It had taken Garak three attempts to tie it correctly, even though he followed the instructions closely. He fussed with it until it sat straight. 

The jacket, he had to admit, was a nice cut, but the trousers weren't anything special. Both in black. 

As ridiculous as he felt now, what he was about to do would be even worse. 

There was still time to call the whole thing off, but who was he kidding? Garak just couldn't leave something alone once he had set his mind to it. And this matter had occupied him for quite some time. 

With a deep breath he exited his closed shop and went on his way to Quark's. 

He slipped the Ferengi the agreed-upon amount of latinum and Quark grinned deviously. 

"Holosuite three." 

"Thank you", Garak said. 

Apparently he came just right for the grand finale. 

A large, bulky man with an eyepatch crashed backwards through a big frosted glass panel. 

Garak hid himself in the shadows to observe. The setting looked like some kind of hotel lobby, but the interior design was unfamiliar to him. 

Behind the now-destroyed panel he could see Doctor Bashir, similarly clad as Garak. He had seemingly pushed the other man through the glass and was now turning to face another man in a bright red shirt with blonde hair. 

The man moved towards Bashir quite sensually, on his way grabbing a bottle of champagne from a cooler. He was very handsome, large blue eyes and rosy lips in a young face. 

The bottle was passed to the Doctor, who moved to open it. While he did so, he had his back to the bulky man, who stirred and then got up. He didn't look too pleased about what had happened to him. Garak almost called out to Bashir but the Doctor turned around abruptly, shooting the cork of the champagne at the approaching villain, effectively hitting him directly on the forehead. The man slumped down like a bag of quadrotriticale. 

"A lot of kick for a '45 dom.", Bashir commented and Garak almost snorted at the cheesiness. 

"Thank you, Mister...?", the blonde said with a noticeable accent, blinking up at him through thick lashes. 

"Bashir. Julian Bashir.", he answered and then pulled the young man in for a kiss. 

Garak rolled his eyes and decided now might be a good moment to make himself known. Before things got any more heated. 

He stepped out of the shadows, leaned against one of the tables and began to clap sarcastically. 

Bashir and the blonde man broke their kiss and turned towards him. As soon as the Doctor recognized Garak, his expression turned to annoyance. 

"Who's that?", the blonde asked. 

"An uninvited guest.", Bashir murmured just loud enough for Garak to hear. "Excuse me." 

He approached Garak swiftly. "Nice tux." 

"Thank you.", Garak smiled brightly at him. 

"Now... get out." 

"But Doctor, I've only just arrived.", Garak teased, knowing full well he wasn't welcome. Not that that had ever hindered him. 

Bashir now stood closely in front of him. Very close. 

"Breaking into a holosuite during someone's program is not only rude, it's illegal.", there was a quiet anger in his voice. "I should call Odo and have you arrested." 

"What an extreme reaction that would be.", Garak tried to appease, but then he couldn't help but tease. "You must be very embarrassed by this program." 

"I'm not embarrassed", the Doctor said, flailing with his hands. He clearly was. "I'm annoyed that you have intruded into my privacy." 

"Oh privacy indeed.", Garak commented. "I think it goes far deeper than that, Doctor. Ever since you've received this new program, you've spent virtually every free hour in the holosuite. But you haven't told anyone what the program is.", he looked around pointedly. 

Curiosity was what he gave as a reason, but Garak wasn't too deluded to admit to himself that he was mostly hurt by Bashir cutting their lunches short and being distracted throughout. 

"Am I supposed to?", the Doctor asked. 

"No, no. No.", Garak held out his hands in front of him. "But you're such a... forgive me, a talkative man, and it's _so_ unusual for you to have secrets." 

A strange look passed over Bashir's face, but was gone in the blink of an eye. Then he quickly retorted "I must have picked up that habit from you. Now, if you will excuse me." 

Garak still followed him "Is this fantasy of yours... truly revealing of your inner psyche?" 

"What?", Bashir looked incredulous. 

"Is that why you're so protective?", he knew he was close to going too far "are you afraid that I'll find out some humiliating secrets of the real Julian Bashir?" 

There was the look again that quickly morphed into a mixture of annoyance and anger. 

"This is a fantasy. I'm not hiding anything." 

On Cardassia this conversation would count as heavy flirtation, Garak thought idly. If they were in public, mothers would cover their children's ears when they passed by. 

"Well, if you've nothing to hide, then why not let me stay?", he leaned into the Doctor's personal space on purpose. 

Bashir looked at him sharply for a moment, then conceded "All right. Now I have to be at work in two hours, and I'd like to enjoy myself. So keep quiet and don't rain on my parade." 

"Parade?!" 

"Never mind. It's a turn of phrase.", he said pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Don't worry Doctor. I can be very discreet. You'll barely know I'm here.", Garak said. 

"Good." 

"But if I may make one observation..." 

"Garak..." 

"I only want to point out that your lovely companion is leaving.", Garak gestured to the blonde man just stepping through the door, looking bored. "Odd. He seemed so interested in your advances just a moment ago. I wonder what scared him away." 

The look Bashir threw him was dark. 

"Oh no. I do apologize.", Garak said without any remorse whatsoever. "You must be incensed. In fact if I were in your shoes I'd grab a bottle of champagne and shoot me." 

One of these days his mouth would get Garak killed for real, he was sure of it. But today was not that day and he gave the Doctor a big grin. 

"I can see I'm going to regret this.", Bashir sounded more weary now than angry. 

"Don't worry Doctor", Garak clapped him on the shoulder "We're going to have a wonderful time. After all what could possibly go wrong?" 

The Doctor gave a humorless laugh. "Well, I suppose I should show you the flat first." 

When they arrived at said flat, Garak looked around curiously. "You live here?" 

"That's right.", Bashir said. 

"Decorate it yourself?" 

"The decor is appropriate for the period, 1964.", the Doctor explained. 

Garak hoped that he wouldn't take inspiration from this for his quarters. It was all very... beige. 

"How did you pronounce the name of this city?" 

"Kowloon.", Bashir called from the other room he had disappeared to upon their arrival. "It's part of Hong Kong." 

"And the nightclub was in Paris, which, if I remember correctly, was on the other side of the planet.", Garak asked. 

Just as he had finished his sentence, a brunette woman with an aluminium suitcase appeared in the sliding door, looking surprised at Garak's presence. 

"Mr Bashir", she said to the Doctor who had reentered the living room. "I didn't expect you home so soon." 

"I decided to leave Paris a little early.", he said "Allow me to introduce my friend, Mr Garak.", then turning towards Garak "Garak, this is my personal valet Mona Luvsitt." 

Oh dear, cheap wordplay. She however seemed unfazed by her ridiculous name, but then again she had been programmed that way. Reaching out her hand she said "Pleased to make your acquaintance." 

Then she turned towards Bashir "Would you like to change into something more comfortable?" 

"Oh that would be perfect.", the Doctor said "Let's see if we can find Mr Garak something as well." 

"I'll see what I can do. Would you like me to put this away?", she held up the suitcase. 

"Please." 

Then she walked off to the adjacent room with a swing of her hips. 

"Care for a drink?", Bashir asked from the bar where he was already busy. 

"Not just yet.", Garak declined. 

He watched as Mona pressed a secret button on a dresser and the mirror rotated in the wall, revealing an arsenal of old-fashioned human weapons. 

"Is she your valet or your personal assassin?", Garak asked amused. 

"Valet. Mona is very capable." 

Garak didn't doubt it for a minute. 

"She speaks seven languages, has degrees in biology, chemistry and physics, can fly anything from a jet to a helicopter, and makes an excellent martini. Cheers", at that Bashir raised the glass to his lips. 

She came back towards them "Is there anything else I can do for you?" 

"I'll let you know." 

Garak could imagine what she would do for Bashir if he wasn't there and he didn't quite know how to feel about the mental image. 

"I take it your character is some kind of rich dilettante with a fascination for women, men and weapons." 

"Actually, my character is far more disreputable.", Bashir said. "I'm a spy." 

For a second Garak was dumbstruck. "A spy? And you live here?" 

"Yes. I work for one of the nation-states of this era, Great Britain, which is battling various other nations in what is called the 'cold war'. This apartment, my clothes, weapons, even my valet, were provided to me by my government.", the Doctor had leaned back on the sofa while explaining, stretching both arms to put them on the backrest. 

"I think I joined the wrong intelligence service.", Garak remarked. 

Bashir chuckled lightly. "To be honest, I'm not sure how realistic this is." 

"You don't say.", Garak raised an eyeridge at him. 

"The program is supposed to be reminiscent of the 'James Bond' movies and novels. They were very popular in the late 20th and early 21st century. I can lend you a copy if you want.", the Doctor suggested. 

"I think I'll decide after we're done here.", Garak said. 

They both changed costumes. Mona had indeed found an outfit for Garak, though he wasn't exactly exhilarated by it. 

The jacket seemed to be a similar cut to that of the tuxedo but was a checkered brown in colour, as were the trousers. Instead of a button-down shirt he wore a strange contraption in maroon that felt awfully tight around the neck. 

"Yes this should do", he said without enthusiasm "Although I'm not too sure about the collar." 

"It's perfect. That's called a turtleneck by the way.", Bashir said matter-of-factly. 

Garak had another look in the mirror. Well, maybe it wasn't too shabby. 

Mona went on her way to run some errands, which left them alone in the flat. The Doctor now wore a light grey suit with a white button-down shirt. Around his neck was a long piece of striped cloth, not unlike a scarf. It was called a tie, as Garak had learned, quite different from a _bow_ tie, but similar in purpose. 

"Isn't this a rather ostentatious life for a spy?", Garak asked. 

"It's all part of my cover. I'm posing as a wealthy jet-setter, so I have to act like one." 

"Jet-setter?", Garak asked, unfamiliar with the term. 

"People of this era used to travel in...", Bashir was interrupted by a low noise that seemed to come from the wall behind the bar. 

Quickly the Doctor grabbed one of the old-fashioned weapons. This one looked a bit like a phaser-pistol. Then he pressed a button on the console that was fixed to the coffee table. 

The whole bar began to turn slowly, disappearing into the wall and revealing a semicircular bed. On this bed lay a figure, stretched out across the length, head on a pile of satin pillows. 

He was dressed only in a thin white robe, loosely knotted at the waist and slipping from one shoulder. Laying on his side he lazily opened first one, then both eyes, stretching a bit and running a hand along his side. 

"Julian", he murmured in a heavy accent "I must have fallen asleep." 

"Captain?!", Bashir's voice had risen about an octave. He blinked a few times before his expression darkened. "Very funny.", he said towards Garak "Who else did you invite along with you today?" 

"Well this wasn't my idea!", Garak protested. 

"I didn't think you'd go along with something like this, Sir.", the Doctor's face was flushed and he looked hurt. 

"Captain Sisko?", Garak inquired, not really believing his eyes and unable to avert his gaze. 

Sisko propped himself up on his elbows. "Colonel, actually.", he said "Colonel Alexej Komananov, K.G.B.", once he had introduced himself he turned to Bashir "Oh Julian, I never thought I'd see you alive again. Not after you fell out of that dirigible over iceland." 

"I had a parachute.", the Doctor said mechanically, looking up at Sisko who had stood up from the bed and was now cradling Bashir's face in his hands. "and there was a submarine there, waiting for me... but how did you know about that?", his disbelieving expression turned to suspicion. "Have you been downloading my holosuite program?!" 

"Oh Julian, you are not well. Let's lie down.", Sisko crooned. 

"I must say", Garak began in hope to cut through the awkwardness "Captain Sisko is certainly throwing himself into the role, Doctor." 

"Captain Sisko, please.", the Doctor said firmly, embarrassment still clear on his red face. 

"Who is this Captain Sisko?", Sisko asked still with the heavy accent. 

Either the Captain was a much better actor than he had previously let on or... 

"Perhaps... this isn't Captain Sisko after all.", Garak said. 

It _was_ very uncharacteristic for the stern Captain of Deep Space Nine to just appear in the holo-program of someone else uninvited to play a prank on them. He had never done anything remotely like it before, that Garak knew about. Things like this were more Lieutenant Dax's range of expertise. 

"I'm beginning to think you're right.", Bashir said, looking thoughtfully at Sisko. "Computer, restore the image of Colonel Komananov back to its original parameters." 

"Unable to comply.", the computer chirped. "The character parameters of colonel Komananov are correct." 

"I'd say someone's been tampering with your program, Doctor.", Garak said. 

The fake Sisko spoke up again "Julian, we don't have time for games. There is much to talk about." 

"Excuse me.", Bashir told him "Computer, freeze program." 

"Unable to comply.", the computer chimed again "Computer control has been disrupted due to a station-wide emergency." 

"Emergency?", Garak asked, now a bit alarmed. Were they going to be stuck here? 

"Bashir to ops, what's going on?", the Doctor asked. 

"We've got our hands full right now, Doctor. Stand by.", Odo's voice rang through the room. He sounded very stressed. 

From the background came another voice "Odo wait. Doctor, where are you and do you have access to a working computer console?", Garak thought he recognized Eddington. 

"I'm in holosuite three.", Bashir answered. "The program is running, but it won't comply with my commands." 

"The program is still running?" 

In the background Sisko became quite agitated. "I demand to know who you are talking to. Julian tell me!" 

"That sounded like Captain Sisko.", Odo said surprised. 

"... not exactly.", the Doctor started "someone has replaced one of the characters with the image of Captain Sisko. What's going on?" 

"Stay where you are Doctor.", Eddington commanded "keep the program running for now. We'll get right back to you." 

And with that the connection was cut off. 

"Julian, talk to me.", the fake Sisko crooned again "tell me what is happening." 

"I'm not sure myself.", the Doctor said with a helpless look to Garak. 

Garak gave the look right back and shrugged. How would he know. 

It took a few minutes before Eddington contacted them again. 

"Ops to Bashir. Doctor, whatever you do, don't end that program." 

"Why not?" 

"There has been a transporter accident. We believe the holosuite memory core is holding the transporter patterns of five crew members. If you stop the program their patterns might be lost.", Eddington explained. 

"How could that happen?", Bashir asked unbelieving. 

"It's a long story, but at this moment, the patterns of Captain Sisko, Kira, Worf, Dax and O'Brien exist only in the holosuites database.", Eddington said, and for emphasis Odo reminded him "Don't leave the holosuite. If you do, it might disrupt the holo-imaging array, and right now we can't take any chances. You'll have to stay in there and keep the program running for now." 

"Understood.", the Doctor confirmed, still visibly puzzled by the whole thing. 

"We'll get back to you Doctor." 

Bashir sat down on the bed, defeated. Immediately Sisko was at his side, rubbing his shoulders. 

"Oh Julian... you are so tense." 

An acute observation. 

"It's been one of those days.", the Doctor said, irony playing over his face even as he looked beyond tired, angry and embarrassed. Quite an array of emotions for half an hour. 

"I wish I could relax you.", fake Sisko said while leaning back amongst the satin pillows. "But I am here on business." 

He retrieved a manila folder from the bedside table and handed it to Bashir. "In the last 24 hours, a series of earthquakes have struck cities from Vladivostok to New York. Our Seismologists have analyzed the earthquakes and have come to the conclusion that they are artificial." 

Was that supposed to be a plot point in the story? 

"So?", Garak asked, having sat down on the sofa. "That's not so difficult. One only has to..." 

He was rudely interrupted by the Doctor giving him a warning look. "Garak!" 

Right, this was supposed to be era-appropriate. Fine. 

"Your friend seems to know something.", Sisko remarked, seeming more alert suddenly than seductive. 

"Believe me, he knows nothing.", Bashir said harshly. 

Garak conceded and stayed silent. 

"If you say so.", Sisko said, not altogether convinced. "Because of the global nature of this crisis, my government and yours have decided to cooperate. We will be working... very closely.", he was back to seduction now, leaning close to the Doctor, practically breathing in his ear. 

"I'm sure we will.", Bashir murmured. 

"Our assignment is to find out who caused the earthquakes", Sisko continued "and what they want." 

Garak couldn't help but comment. "A rather vague assignment." 

Apparently Sisko had only now remembered Garak's existence because he turned towards him. "We do have one clue. One of the world's leading seismologists, Professor Honey Bare, has vanished. We believe... she has been kidnapped." 

He produced an envelope from somewhere and also gave it to the Doctor. Bashir opened it and slipped out a sheet of paper. Inspecting it closely, he got up and frowned, concern on his features. 

"I didn't think she was your type.", Sisko remarked snidely. 

"You said she's been kidnapped.", the Doctor said without acknowledging the comment. 

"We think so.", Sisko confirmed. "She disappeared only a few hours before the first quake struck New York City." 

Slowly but surely Garak became impatient. 

"Doctor, we're in the middle of an emergency.", he reminded Bashir. "Is this really the time to be playing games?" 

The Doctor came over to him and held out the sheet of paper for Garak to see. It was the photo of a woman with brunette hair. 

"Interesting.", Garak commented when he recognized Lieutenant Dax. She looked quite different with the glasses and tightly done-up hair. 

"If Honey Bare is killed, the computer will erase her character from its program. Now since the program thinks that Dax _is_ Honey Bare...", Bashir said. 

"The computer would actually be erasing Commander Dax's pattern.", Garak finished the sentence for him. 

The Doctor turned to Sisko again. "Captain... uh, Alexej... do you have any idea where Professor Bare is?" 

"She was last seen...", there Sisko got cut off by the noise of the door opening. Mona stood in the opening, some clothes over her arm. 

"I'll be right with you, Mona.", Bashir said, but Mona just stood there for a moment before she dropped the clothes and sank to the floor wide-eyed. There was a knife in her back. 

Two armed men stormed into the apartment, both wearing black and directing their weapons at the three of them. 

Then, slowly, Chief O'Brien strolled in. Similarly clad in all black with a big leather jacket and an eyepatch over his left eye. 

Despite the situation Garak felt the urge to laugh at this over-the-top display of villainy. From the Chief nonetheless. 

"Falcon.", Bashir said, looking at his friend wide-eyed. 

"Nice to see you, Mr Bashir.", O'Brien sneered. "Now I think we have a little unfinished business.", he pulled another one of these old-fashioned weapons out of his jacket and directed it at the Doctor. 

"Surprised to see me?", he went on as he closed the distance. 

"You could say that." 

"Well you should use something a little more lethal than a champagne cork. Something like this.", meaning his weapon. 

So the Chief had taken the place of the man Bashir had thrown through the glass at the beginning. 

Garak began to wonder if the computer had just chosen the roles randomly or if there was a pattern to it. 

"Wait", Sisko called from the background before the Chief could use the weapon. "Wait, please. Let us have one last kiss." 

O'Brien considered, then said "Why not. I've always been a romantic at heart." 

Sisko rushed towards the Doctor, who looked quite alarmed. Before he closed in for the kiss Garak saw that Sisko had whispered something, but he couldn't hear. 

The Chief hadn't noticed. 

During the kiss Bashir grabbed a thin necklace round Sisko's neck and removed it. There was a circular pendant on it. 

"All right Bashir, that's enough.", O'Brien's daily dose of romance was apparently sated. 

The Doctor flung the pendant in his hand in the direction of the Chief and it created a small explosion. Enough distraction for them to fight their attackers. 

Garak was pleased to discover he hadn't forgotten everything he had learned in the Obsidian Order. 

"Interesting jewelry.", he commented when they were done and all of Falcon's men on the ground. 

"I bought it for Alexej last christmas.", Bashir said, looking still kind of bewildered that he had kissed Captain Sisko. Well, his body at least. Garak wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. 

When the Doctor turned to him he exclaimed "You're bleeding!" 

Garak touched his face. Yes, there was indeed a cut on his lower lip. 

"The holosuite safeties must be off." 

In the background he heard Sisko muttering "Time to clip this bird's wings.", he was directing a weapon at the Chief. 

"No!", Bashir yelled and took the weapon from him. 

"Nyet, what are you doing?", Sisko asked incredulous. 

"We can't kill him.", the Doctor explained calmly. 

"Julian, what are you saying? He's been trying to kill you for nine years." 

"I wouldn't dismiss his idea so quickly, Doctor", Garak cut in. 

"But that's Miles.", Bashir protested. 

"No. As you pointed out, he's Falcon, a hired assassin who's going to do everything he can to kill you, and without the holosuite safeties in place, he may just do that." 

Garak realized how cruel it sounded, but Bashir needed to face the real danger they were in right now. 

"What do you want me to do, kill him?", the Doctor asked incredulous. 

"I want you to stop treating this like a game where everything is going to turn out all right in the end. Real spies have to make hard choices. You want to save Dax? Fine. But you may not have the luxury of saving everyone. Eventually you may have to let someone die." 

"I'll deal with that situation if and when it happens.", Bashir said and there was a hardness to his gaze. "In the meantime, we have to find Dax." 

Garak sighed. He hated the position the Doctor put him in, but it was necessary, or nobody might come out of this alive. 

"Now", the Doctor turned to Sisko "You said Professor Bare had been kidnapped. Do you have any suspects?" 

"We believe that Doctor Noah is behind the abductions. During the last two years, she has kidnapped an elite group of 60 artisans and scientists from around the world. No one knows why or where she has taken them. But our sources tell us that each of the missing peoples was invited to meet Doctor Noah at a club in Paris shortly before they disappeared." 

"The club Ingénue.", Bashir said and Sisko nodded "Well then, we're going to Paris." 

For that, they had to don their tuxedos again. In the end Garak had to ask the Doctor for help with his bow tie. He did remember the steps but it always turned out wonky. Bashir complied with a small smile when he saw Garak struggling. Which gave him a bit of hope that the Doctor wasn't too upset over what he had said earlier. 

Sisko came with them and had also changed into a tux. Though he wore a wine-red shirt underneath and had a small brooch pinned to his lapel that shimmered with rubies. 

The club was busy and loud, but not as rowdy as Quark's bar could get. 

When they entered, Bashir requested to one of the waiters to see Doctor Noah. After a few minutes they were led to a secluded area where, at a gambling table, sat Commander Worf. 

"Doctor Noah...?", Bashir asked. 

"No.", Worf turned around to them and got up. "Duchamps, I am Doctor Noah's... associate." 

Bashir introduced himself as Patrick Merriweather, Sisko as his husband Alexej, and Garak as his friend. 

"Charmed", Worf said and kissed Sisko's hand. That was an image Garak would likely never forget. Judging by the expression on the Doctor's face he thought the same. 

Duchamps was a polite man though, so he also grabbed Garak's hand and brought it to his lips with a wink. "Two lovely companions you have there, Mr Merriweather." 

Bashir now visibly fought the urge to laugh. 

Then Worf inquired after an invitation by Doctor Noah. 

"I... don't have one.", Bashir said truthfully. 

"Doctor Noah does not like unexpected guests.", Worf said, leaning back and lighting a cigar. 

"Oh I believe Doctor Noah would be very interested in meeting my husband.", Sisko objected, slipping an arm around Bashir's shoulders. "He's one of the leading geologists in the world." 

At this Worf seemed to perk up, but he was still hesitant. A little back and forth and then he was offering to arrange a meeting... for a price. 

"Five million francs.", he demanded. 

"No problem.", Bashir said and pulled a wallet from his jacket, handing Worf a banknote. 

"I do not understand", Worf said "Where's the rest of your money?" 

"Right in front of you.", Bashir gave back, gesturing to the neatly piled notes on the gaming table. 

Garak had no knowledge of the card game but apparently Bashir was good at it. It didn't take long for him to win the money and then consequently handing it back to Worf. 

"When do we leave?", he asked. 

"Right now.", Worf said with a smile, put the cigar to his lips and then everything around Garak went black. 

When he came to again, he didn't know how long he had been knocked out. Blinking, Garak opened his eyes. He was slumped on a sofa, another body leaning heavily on him. It was the Doctor. Opposite them stood the same piece of furniture, containing Sisko, who still had his eyes closed, though he also seemed to stir. 

Garak cast his gaze around the room to make sense of where they were, and had to fight the urge to shut his eyes again. 

"Another decorator's nightmare.", he commented. "This era had a distinct lack of taste." 

From the other side he heard Sisko mumble something unintelligible. 

Next to him Bashir sat up. "Where are we?", he asked, clutching his head. 

As if she had just waited for the cue, a familiar voice answered him. 

"Welcome to Paradise Mr Merriweather.", Major Kira stepped into the room. "I believe you've been looking for me. My name is Hippocratia Noah." 

She wore her hair gelled and combed back. Her outfit was a brown kind of suit with a high-collared jacket, buttoned up to the top. 

What followed was a fairly cliché scene where Doctor Noah of course knew who Bashir was, and in true fashion to Human crime novels, revealed her secret plan and motive. 

Garak watched with a detached kind of boredom and wondered if that was really how spies and their enemies had acted on earth. From experience he could say that wasn't the case on Cardassia. 

Apparently Doctor Noah had brought them to the southeastern slope of Mount Everest, 25000 feet above sea level. 

"My guests and I place a premium on our privacy.", Doctor Noah said "We don't want any unwelcome guests. I believe in an orderly world... a far cry from the chaos we find ourselves in today. We are building a new future here, a new beginning for mankind. A new chapter in Human history will open right here on my island." 

How strange to hear a Bajoran woman talking about her plans for mankind, but then again it was just Major Kira's body. 

"Island?", Bashir asked. 

Doctor Noah gave him a big smile. "Let me explain." 

And explain she did. Pressing a secret button on a bookshelf caused the wall to retract into the ceiling. 

Seriously, how many of these secret doors were there in this program? The author had apparently taken the phrase 'never too much of a good thing' too literal. 

It revealed a huge kind of screen with a map of the earth's continents. Beside it stood Lieutenant Dax, or better, Professor Honey Bare, bringing Noah up-to-date on the newest proceedings when she stepped through. 

"She's working with her.", Sisko whispered. 

Doctor Noah's plan basically boiled down to the following: She had hidden some new kinds of laser on every continent, which was what had caused the earthquakes. But those had only been tests, soon Noah would activate all of the lasers together, effectively killing everyone on the planet. She wanted a new beginning for humanity, citing a, frankly lacking, metaphor about termites destroying a house and having to rebuild. 

The earthquakes would cause fissures in the earth's crust, releasing molten lava, causing the tectonic plates to settle and shrinking the surface of the planet. In effect that would cause the oceans to cover the whole earth. 

"Diabolical", Bashir commented. 

'Stupid' was what Garak would have said, but he thought better of it. 

"I am going to let mankind begin anew, here... on this island paradise. The only place that will remain above water on my brave new world. And that is why I have gathered the finest minds, the very best that mankind has to offer. We will repopulate and start a new human race.", Noah elaborated, getting louder with every sentence. "Pity you won't be able to join us." 

"Are you revoking my invitation?", Bashir asked. 

"I intend to do more than that Mr Bashir.", she smiled with glistening teeth. 

A little while later Garak and Bashir found themselves in a deep cave, both chained to a gigantic apparature that seemed to be one of the lasers Doctor Noah had talked about. 

"When I throw that switch", Noah said, strutting around them "it will begin a five-minute countdown that even I can't stop. And once the laser fires, the whole cave will be filled with molten lava." 

"Where's Colonel Komananov?", Bashir asked. 

"He's a spirited individual", Doctor Noah almost giggled "Young... healthy. We'll need men like him to help propagate the second human race.", and with that she flicked the switch. 

"Try to stay cool, Mr Bashir." 

Then they were alone. 

"So what do we do now?", Garak asked, only marginally trying to suppress his anger. 

"I'm thinking.", the Doctor replied. 

"Think faster", Garak said "I don't know if I've made this explicit to you or not, Doctor, but I really don't want to die chained to a 20th-century laser. I think it's time to end this program." 

"We can't do that." 

Garak had to close his eyes for a moment as the rage swept over him. This infuriating little Federation Doctor would actually get them both killed in a holosuite program. 

Quietly composing himself he asked as sweetly as he could manage "Then may I suggest calling Commander Eddington and having him send someone in here to remove these handcuffs?" 

"You heard what Odo said, we don't know what'll happen if we interrupt the holo-imaging array by calling for the doors.", Bashir dismissed his offer. "The entire program might collapse and kill them all." 

"Well, I only know one thing for sure, Doctor", Garak said "that when the molten lava begins pouring into this cave, you and I are going to be very uncomfortable." 

He was just about to continue reasoning with Bashir, when he heard footsteps approaching. 

"Who's that?", he asked, unable to bend his body towards the direction the sound was coming from. 

"It's our ticket out of here", the Doctor murmured, and Lieutenant Dax, or better Professor Honey Bare, came into view. 

"What a waste...", Bashir said louder while Professor Bare pressed a few blinking buttons on a machine, that Garak was pretty sure, did absolutely nothing. She turned her head towards him shyly, then concentrated back on her work. 

"That no one can see what a beautiful woman you are." the Doctor continued. 

"Is that your plan?", Garak asked disbelieving. 

"Shut up", Bashir hissed, then went on talking to Professor Bare "Noah only wants you for your mind. She can't appreciate the woman inside you. Honey, would you grant me one last request and take off those glasses?" 

Garak rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might come loose. If they made it out alive afterall, Bashir would be lucky if Dax didn't remember any of this or he would never hear the end of it. 

She had stepped over to the Doctor, blinking at him uncertainly, then slowly she took off the glasses. 

"Like this?" 

"Yes", Bashir's smile was just a tad sultry and Garak remembered having seen it before in a more private setting. Well there was an uncomfortable thought. 

But the Doctor wasn't finished yet. "You know, your hair would look so much better if it were free." 

"Well that's a bit much", Garak muttered under his breath. He felt like he might vomit any second now. 

But she complied, took out the pin and shook her long hair free of its restraint. 

"There...", the Doctor almost sighed "that's the last thing I want to remember before I die." 

He would hit him. Once Garak had his hands free, he would hit Bashir for making him witness this scene with his own two eyes. 

And of course the stupid woman said "Thank you" and beamed at him. Then she turned around, towards the exit of the cave. 

But there she halted, thought for a moment and came back to kiss Bashir, deeply. 

"I'd give you both some privacy if I could", Garak said sarcastically, trying to avert his eyes. 

Then she was gone. 

"Great plan", Garak remarked. "Now can we call Eddington?" 

He heard a small click and a triumphant noise from Bashir. "That will not be necessary", he had opened his handcuffs behind his back and was already moving towards Garak. 

"Honey has given me all we need." 

"Kiss the girl, get the key", Garak said "they never taught me that in the Obsidian Order." 

His cuffs were off and they started running towards the exit, the countdown showed only seconds before activation. 

Around them the tunnel started to shake and small rocks came down from the ceiling. So the laser was already doing its work. 

"We have to get to the control room.", Bashir said while they were leaning against a wall, seeking shelter from a wave of tremors. He was pulling all kinds of small metal objects from hidden pockets in his suit and fitting them together. 

"What?!", Garak asked, the Doctor couldn't be serious. 

"If this program ends like the others", Bashir explained "either Komananov or Honey Bare will be killed by Doctor Noah. The other's supposed to end up with me. In either case, we have to make sure that both of them survive." 

"You expect to take on Noah and her men with that?", Garak pointed at the very tiny pistol Bashir had created. 

"It's my fantasy", the Doctor gave back "trust me", with that he moved forwards through the tunnel. 

"No!", Garak yelled, clambering after him over stray rocks. He'd had it with Bashir's hero-complex. 

"This has gone far enough. It's time to cut our losses." 

"We can't do that. Sisko or Dax might..." 

"Yes they might be killed and that is unfortunate but there comes a time when the odds are against you, and the only reasonable course of action is to quit.", Garak's voice boomed through the caves. 

"Quit?", the Doctor asked. 

"Yes!" 

"Is that what they taught you in the Obsidian Order?", Bashir's voice sounded derisive. "To give up when things get tough?" 

"As a matter of fact, they did. That's why I've managed to stay alive while most of my colleagues are dead. Because I know when to walk away, and that time is now. Now! And you'd know that, Doctor, if you were a _real_ intelligence agent." 

"Oh, so that's what this is all about? The fact that my fantasy happens to step on what you consider to be your private domain? What's the matter Garak? Have I bruised your ego by play-acting at something you take so very seriously? Not like you ever did something like that, is it?", there was so much anger and bitterness in Bashir's voice that for a moment Garak was taken aback, but then the urgency of the situation caught up with him. 

"That's something else you've yet to learn, Doctor. A real intelligence agent has no ego, no conscience, no remorse, only a sense of professionalism. And mine is telling me that it's time to go." 

"I think I know that well enough.", Bashir looked him directly in the eye. There was a cold fury inside that made Garak shiver for a moment before tearing himself away and walking towards the other end of the tunnel. He just wanted to get out of there and _survive_. 

"Computer...", he began. 

"Don't!", yelled the Doctor behind him and Garak could hear a metallic click. 

He turned around and saw that Bashir was pointing the weapon at him. 

"Or what?", Garak asked "You'll kill me?" 

"If you call for the exit, you might kill Kira and the others, and I am not prepared to risk that." 

"I'm afraid I don't believe you'll pull that trigger.", Garak said, standing still. 

"I wouldn't be so sure about that.", Bashir said, danger in his voice. 

"It's time to face reality, Julian. You're a man who dreams of being a hero because you know, deep down, that you're not.", Garak hated himself for causing the look Bashir gave him. "I'm no hero either, but I do know how to make a choice, and I am choosing to save myself." 

He turned away from the Doctor and yelled "Computer, show me the mechanism...", there he got cut off by the shot. 

First he heard the loud bang, then he felt a push on the right side of his head, the pain came a few miliseconds after. He lost his balance and crashed into the stone wall. 

When he touched the spot just below his ear he felt wetness. A look at the hand confirmed that it was blood. 

Bashir was at his side. "You'll be fine, it's just a flesh wound.", it sounded much too cold for the Doctor. 

"That was awfully close", Garak commented, disbelieving. "What if you'd killed me?" 

"What makes you think I wasn't trying?" 

"Doctor, I do believe there's hope for you yet.", Garak said, honestly impressed by Bashir's ruthlessness. 

"I'm so relieved.", the Doctor gave back sarcastically. "Now we have to get to the control room. Are you coming or not?" 

A kind of calm came over Garak, he was still touching the wound. "Well, who am I to question Julian Bashir, secret agent?", he said with amusement. "Lead on." The Doctor gave him a strange look but didn't say anything further. 

In front of the door to the control room Bashir silently counted to three on his fingers and they barged in. 

While the Doctor kept Noah in check, Garak overpowered Falcon and took his weapon from him. 

Immediately Noah accused Professor Bare of collaborating with Bashir and having let them go. 

Sisko was there too, handcuffed and sitting on one of the awfully patterned sofas. He informed them that Noah had just been about to activate the final sequence of the lasers. 

"Kill him, Julian.", he cried. 

"Not today, Alexej.", Bashir said calmly. 

"What are you doing?", Sisko asked, baffled by the Doctor's behaviour. 

"Making a mistake", came the answer from the door. Worf had just entered, pointing a gun at Garak, forcing him to give up the weapon he had taken from Falcon. 

"Thank you Mr Duchamps.", Doctor Noah triumphed, taking her own pistols. She was back in control now. 

Then the unmistakable chirp of the cummunicators rang through the room. 

"Eddington to Bashir. We're going to try rematerializing their patterns in about two minutes." 

"Understood.", Bashir confirmed quietly. 

"You should've killed me when you had the chance.", Noah taunted. "But then again I suppose it wouldn't be very... heroic. I on the other hand have no pretensions about the idea of being a hero.", with that she pointed the weapon at Bashir. 

"Wait.", the Doctor said "Maybe I'm tired of being a hero. Maybe I've thought over what you've said, and decided that you're absolutely right." 

"About what?", Noah asked. 

"Everything. The decadence of the world, the need for order. Perhaps I realized that your way may be the only way." 

Doctor Noah let out a shrill "Ha!" and walked towards the big screen with the world map, her movements manic and slightly unhinged. 

"You expect me to believe that?", she giggled, eyes blown wide "You are Julian Bashir, a man who has spent his entire life dedicated to fighting against...", there the Doctor cut her off. 

"Yes! But that's all about to end now, isn't it? You're going to destroy this world and start a new one. What's the use of me continuing to defend a doomed planet? Can you see the sense in that?" 

"No.", Noah conceded. 

"I'm an intelligence agent, and if there's any one thing I've learned, it is that there comes a point when the odds are against you", while talking he moved across the room. "and there is no reasonable course of action but to quit." 

Garak smirked silently. 

"How do you think I've managed to stay alive so long", Bashir continued. "when all of my compatriots are dead? It is because I have known when to walk away." 

"You make a very interesting argument, Mr Bashir.", Noah said "But I'm afraid I've been looking forward to killing you for a long time.", she lifted both her weapons. 

"You need to move beyond that.", Bashir said, lifting his hands in a calming gesture. "You need to start thinking about your new world order.", he turned and stepped towards the control panel in front of the big screen. "You may even need someone like me." 

"If you think you can destroy my control console you are wasting your time.", Noah threatened, following him with the barrels of both pistols. 

"I don't intend to destroy your console, Doctor.", Bashir smiled. "I intend to use it." 

He pressed the button to activate the remaining laser sequence. A beeping sound signalled the process. 

"You've destroyed the world.", Sisko whispered in shock, eyes opened wide. 

The progress was shown on the big blue screen, where very quickly, all the continents were flooded by water. 

"You've done it Doctor!", Falcon exclaimed. 

"Yes.", Noah said "but somehow I didn't expect to win. I suppose the only thing left to do is to kill you.", she was approaching Bashir, gun cocked. 

Garak's heart was beating fast, he wanted to scream, but he couldn't do anything, Falcon had his weapon on him. 

Then, at the very last second, Noah began dematerializing, along with O'Brien, Sisko, Worf and Dax. 

Both Bashir and Garak let out a deep breath. 

"Eddington to Bashir. We've got them, Doctor, You can leave the holosuite now." 

"Thank you", Bashir sighed in relief. 

"Interesting.", Garak commented after a few moments, trying to regain control over his heartbeat "You saved the day by destroying the world." 

"I bet they didn't teach you _that_ at the Obsidian Order.", the Doctor smiled, now seeming more like himself again. He leaned against the control panel, breathing, digging his hands into his pockets. Garak joined him. 

"No, there was a great deal they didn't teach me.", he answered "Like the value of a good game of chance, or how indulging in fantasy keeps the mind creative.", he looked at Bashir and noticed that his eyes were fixed on Garak's lips as he spoke. Involuntarily he shifted closer. 

"How is your wound?", the Doctor asked, carefully touching two fingers to it. Garak winced slightly at the sting it brought, but willingly tilted his head so Bashir could inspect it. 

The Doctor's face was so close that Garak could feel his warm breath on his skin. He shivered. His blood was still pumping through his body at speed. Without a conscious thought, he angled his face up to meet Bashir's lips. 

There was surprise, but the Doctor returned the kiss. And then the dynamic shifted, suddenly Julian pressed him against the console with surprising strength. He pinned both of Garak's wrists on the surface behind him, digging his thumbs deep into the flesh. Hungrily he thrust his tongue into Garak's mouth, pressing his full body against him. 

Garak let out a low moan that was entirely out of his control. His skin melted under Julian's touch with the heat. 

Abruptly Bashir broke the kiss, stepping away. He was flushed and wide-eyed. 

"Sorry", he murmured "adrenaline." 

When Garak's mouth refused to cooperate he just nodded. 

"We... we should probably get going.", Bashir gestured towards the door, combing through his hair with his other hand. 

"Yes", Garak straightened up, trying to get a grip on himself. 

"Computer, doors." 

The familiar archway appeared and Bashir stepped through quickly, apparently eager to get away. Garak followed suit. 

Rom greeted them, sitting amongst an array of cables and tools. Looking at the chaos inside the open mechanism of the holosuite it was a miracle it even worked at all. 

"I'm gonna have a look if everything went well.", Bashir said, not meeting Garak's eyes "maybe someone needs medical attention... lunch tomorrow?" 

"Of course.", Garak said "But why don't we have it at your place... in Hong Kong." 

Bashir broke out in a grin. 

"Unless of course", Garak continued "this was your last mission?" 

"Oh, I think it's safe to say that Julian Bashir, secret agent, will return.", and with that he turned around and dashed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've written it, I'm kinda sad we didn't get to see Sisko as Colonel Komananov, Avery Brooks would've absolutely NAILED it, I just know it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a bit more... action ;)  
> enjoy!

Indeed they spent their lunch break in the holosuite the next day.

For this purpose Bashir had deactivated the story-elements of the program, including his valet Mona, so they could eat without being disturbed by Falcon, Doctor Noah or whoever else planned on taking over the world that day. 

From the dining room they had a lovely view over Hong Kong. 

"... luckily none of them have any memory of what happened in here.", the Doctor wrapped up his account of the debriefing the day before. "I've given the Captain my report but I left out some of the... minor details, and I would really appreciate it if you... well, kept quiet about them as well." 

"As much as I would be interested in seeing Lieutenant Dax's face when she hears that her character was called 'Honey Bare', and the exact way that she helped us escape, I value your physical and mental health too much, Doctor.", Garak said with a sly smile. 

"Thank you", Bashir nodded with as much dignity as he could muster and grinned. "How is your Chow Mein?" 

Since they were eating in Hong Kong, the Doctor had suggested they both try traditional chinese dishes. To Bashir's amazement, Garak had picked up the use of chopsticks fairly quickly after he had shown him. It was rather an impractical way of delivering nourishment to the body, but it certainly had an air of distinguished elegance about it. 

"Very good.", he said, picking up more noodles and meat with the little sticks. "How is your... what was it called again?" 

"Kung Pao chicken. It's delicious." 

For a while they ate silently. 

Without looking up from his plate Garak finally asked "Are we going to talk about what happened?" 

From the way Bashir flinched, he could guess that he knew what Garak meant. 

The Doctor didn't look up either, instead he poked the meat on his plate. "I would prefer not to." 

"Why?" 

"Because it shouldn't have happened.", Bashir said, the light mood from before gone from his face. 

"I apologize that I have crossed the boundaries of our... arrangement,", Garak didn't want to say relationship. "I started the kiss afterall. But I got the feeling that you were not at all indisposed to the idea." 

Bashir sighed, not looking up. "I know. Still." 

"Fine.", Garak said, not without annoyance in his voice. And they said _Cardassians_ were dramatic. 

Again they ate in silence. 

But the issue gnawed at Garak, threatening to eat him from the inside out. 

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I just don't understand." 

Bashir's tone was exasperated "Garak, please..." 

"May I remind you of the evening at Quark's when you got drunk and then invited me to your quarters? It's very clear to me that at least part of you wants to resume the physical side of our acquaintance. So what is the problem?" 

"Well, if you must know", the Doctor's voice was low and dangerous. "frankly, everything.", now he looked up from his food, directly into Garak's eyes, brows furrowed in anger. 

"Everything?", Garak asked in a fake jovial tone "That is rather a broad spectrum, care to elaborate?" 

"Have you forgotten how you took the first opportunity to return to the Obsidian Order? I'd cite that as a big issue." 

"No I haven't.", Garak gave back "and as I think we established, I was never unclear about my intentions. Also I had hoped we might be even now, with you _shooting me_ yesterday." 

"If I hadn't, Sisko and the others would be dead now!", Bashir snapped. 

"And if you hadn't used _my_ speech about having to make hard decisions as a spy, _you_ would be dead now, so you're welcome. Just admit it, you might have been able to save everyone this time, but I made you question your precious Federation morals and it makes you uncomfortable.", Garak's voice was calmer than he felt. 

"See, that's another reason! With you everything has to turn into a lesson on what a cruel place the universe is. _You_ can't admit that sometimes it _is_ possible to save everyone if you just try!", the Doctor was getting louder. 

"Oh, am I boring you with my lectures? I suppose you'd rather hear about my tailoring business? Afterall that's what fascinates you so much that you decided to play your own version of it in the holosuite, am I right?" 

"I knew it bothered you! No ego, right? You're not half as enigmatic as you think, Garak." 

They had both gotten up from their chairs, leaning on the table with their hands, yelling at eachother. 

"Well then how are you still surprised whenever I voice my opinion?", Garak asked. 

"I'm surprised at how convoluted you can make every single sentence you say, just for the sake of appearing mysterious!" 

"As if you don't lap it up like the eager little puppy you are. You're so easy to manipulate it's laughable!", Garak underlined it with a fake laugh that sounded more like a bark. 

"Is that why you like spending time with me? Why you broke into my holosuite program after I neglected to be sufficiently impressed by you? Honestly Garak, sometimes you annoy me so much with your patronising that I could just..." 

"What? Shoot me? You've already done that.", he completed the thought for Bashir. 

"Bend you over the nearest surface!", was shouted into Garak's face instead. 

"Well...", he said with a devious grin. "why don't you try?" 

He didn't need to repeat the challenge. In a heartbeat Bashir was beside him, pushing the chair out of the way and pressing his body against Garak's. 

Their lips crashed together and, like the day before, the Doctor's tongue thrust into Garak's mouth, exploring it thoroughly. He tasted of the food they had abandoned for the argument. 

Bashir's hands firmly gripped Garak's posterior, kneading while he pressed him to the edge of the dining table. Garak snaked his arms around the Doctor's waist, but Bashir quickly grabbed his wrists and forcefully turned him around so he was facing the table. 

The Doctor's arms came around and under his tunic, stroking over belly and chest. Bashir's groin was pressing into Garak's back, hard. 

Garak used his hands to guide the Doctor towards his nipples and hissed slightly in pleasure when he earned a pinch. Bashir's teeth were on the neck ridges, beginning on Garak's left shoulder and working his way up with little bites. 

Garak's slit was throbbing with want, it felt good having those long fingers on him again. But he wanted more skin contact. 

The Doctor apparently thought the same because he grabbed the hem of Garak's tunic, who lifted up his arms eagerly. The piece of clothing was discarded on the floor. 

Now he felt the rough material of the Starfleet uniform on his back ridges, not exacly skin, but not unpleasant either. Bashir kept on biting along the neck ridges while he fumbled with the clasp on Garak's trousers. When he had figured it out, he pushed them down to Garak's knees along with his underwear. Unceremoniously two fingers were thrust into Garak's slit, which brought a soft "Oh", from his lips. 

Bashir moved them quickly in an up- and downward motion and it didn't take long for Garak to evert. The Doctor's erection behind him was hard and noticeable even through the thick fabric. 

Bashir extracted his slicked fingers and moved them to Garak's cock, to tease with a few hard strokes. Garak moaned and threw his head back on the Doctor's shoulder. 

Then the hand was gone and he felt Bashir opening the zip of his uniform and quickly pushing it down to knee-level as well. His underwear followed suit. 

The hand was now just above Garak's ass, wandering up his back and pushing down along the ridge. He obliged and bent over the tabletop, clearing the plates out of the way and ending in a position where he was leaning on his forearms. Under him, the surface was chilly and smooth. He was glad it was a wooden table, not one made of stone, but he didn't have long to contemplate before Bashir grabbed one of his cheeks and thrust fully into him in one fluid motion. 

It sent a thrilling little shock through Garak's body and he shivered involuntarily. Bashir's movements were still rough when he started rocking into him and Garak could hear little grunts of pleasure. An arm came round and wound over Garak's stomach, holding him securely in the middle, while the Doctor's other hand grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. 

His thrusts got more intense and he bowed lower over Garak's back, who arched into the contact. Quietly the dishes clinked with every movement. 

Warm breath caressed his neck, a sharp contrast to the forceful movements of Bashir's cock behind, and in him. The Doctor's more... assertive side was a sight to behold. And something Garak would _never_ admit to enjoying as much as he did. 

His slit and cock were aching with need and he moaned loudly. Even after such a short time he was already so close. 

Bashir responded by biting down hard on one of the scales in his back ridge, which produced an even louder and more desperate moan from Garak. He could hear the Doctor chuckle darkly, then Bashir's hand that had been on the edge of the table, grabbed Garak's cock. He tugged hard but not violently so and Garak could only utter an "Ahh, yes!". 

Garak came almost immediately, feeling himself spill on the carpet. His legs quivered but the Doctor was holding him tightly in place, never breaking his rhytm. The waves of Garak's orgasm left him breath- and boneless, riding them with every thrust from Bashir. 

A few seconds after him, the Doctor came as well with a satisfied grunt, collapsing his upper body onto Garak. Both arms went round his middle now in a tight embrace. Garak could feel Bashir's body heaving, and the panting breath right below his left ear. 

The Doctor nuzzled his face into Garak's neck and gave a small nibble and lick to the ridge there. 

Garak had seldom felt so secure and satisfied as in this moment. What an odd thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garak just likes to be held ;_;


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "For the Cause"  
> Yay Ziyal finally makes an appearance :D I like her, although I think her storyline could've been handled a lot better.

"Stop watching her."

The sentence ripped him out of his thoughts. Quickly Garak roamed his brain for a retort. 

"Oh, I thought the whole point _was_ to watch." 

"The point is to watch the game, not the spectators", Bashir said beside him. "Especially not that spectator.", he added sharply. 

Garak didn't care much for springball, he barely knew the rules, but he had agreed to accompany the Doctor to this game because apparently it was an important one for the Major. Though he had found something, or better someone, to occupy his mind. 

"Well what does she expect?", Garak asked. "She's the only Cardassian woman on the station. She must know she's bound to attract some attention." 

Bashir looked at him disapproving "Some, yes. Yours, no.", then he was distracted by the game again. 

If Garak didn't know better he would've said there was some jealousy in the Doctor's behaviour. 

_Did_ he know better though? He made a mental note to add it to the mess that was his... whatever it was, with Bashir. 

"Perhaps I should say hello after the game." 

He had seen Ziyal around the station a few times since she had come to live there, but only briefly and from far away. It was a big station. 

"That's Gul Dukat's daughter.", the Doctor needlessly reminded him. "And I can' think of anyone in the galaxy who hates you more than he does." 

Garak could think of a few more, but that wasn't the point. 

"Besides", Bashir continued. "Ziyal is a friend of Kira's and I wouldn't play around with her if I were you." 

The good Doctor, always quick with the accusations. Garak contemplated being hurt by the remark, but decided against it. 

"I simply thought it would be polite to say hello, but clearly you don't think I'm capable of conducting any kind of pleasant discourse without some kind of nefarious ulterior motive." 

Well maybe he was a little offended. 

"That's not what I meant", Bashir backpedalled. "I just think you should leave well enough alone." 

By now the Doctor should really know him better than that. Garak was simply incapable of leaving things alone. 

"Why stir up...", Bashir began and was interrupted by the applause of the audience for a well-earned point, in which Garak joined just to show the Doctor he _had_ been paying attention. 

"What happened?", now Bashir was the confused one. 

"A brilliant move on the part of the Major. You should have been paying attention.", Garak chided with a hint of smugness. 

The Doctor looked like he wanted to say something, but then decided against it and closed his mouth. 

Ziyal looked in their direction and smiled, though Garak wasn't sure what it was directed at. He quickly turned his gaze to the game again. Even though she should expect attention, staring wasn't exactly polite. 

But could anyone blame him? She was one of the very few Cardassians he had seen in the last years, and one who permanently resided on the station now. Curiosity wasn't a crime as far as he knew. 

After the game Ziyal, Bashir and a few other people flocked towards the Major to congratulate her on her victory. Garak didn't think it wise to join them so he made his retreat. 

When he was already a good way down the corridor, he heard running steps come towards him. 

"Garak!" 

He turned around to face the Doctor who had caught up with him. 

"How about some tea after such an exciting game?", his smile was friendly. 

"Yes, why not.", Garak agreed. "But I thought you would rather celebrate with the Major?" 

Bashir shrugged "Not really in the mood." 

Garak nodded. 

It was exceedingly weird how both of them pretended nothing had happened. 

Not like before, when they had slowly and carefully mended the scraps of their friendship after the incident with Tain. 

Garak still didn't know what Bashir wanted, and he strongly suspected the Doctor didn't exactly know either. He wouldn't be the first to feel a division between body and mind. 

It was hard for Garak to not find it flattering, to be desired was a universal craving afterall. The thought was accompanied by a small flutter in his chest, but also a kind of unrest. 

"The Replimat?", he asked. 

"Where else?", Bashir gave back with a grin. 

"Quite.", Garak smiled. 

For whom were they pretending? For themselves or the people around them? 

Maybe for Leeta, the Doctor's girlfriend, who he had only remembered after the damage was done. Bashir apparently hadn't told her about anything regarding Garak that went deeper than lunch once a week. He still saw them together occasionally, though very infrequent. 

They talked a bit about the game, the Doctor always the sports-enthusiast. To change the subject, Garak inquired after the well-being of the O'Briens. 

"They're fine.", Bashir smiled "I think Miles has finally grasped that they're having another baby. He's talking about possible names constantly. Keiko comes in for her check-ups regularly and everything's looking well so far, textbook-pregnancy." 

"That's good to hear", Garak said politely. "Almost time then to break out the patterns for infant-clothing again. It should be a lot less complicated than the last addition to station-community, or will the new O'Brien be having a tail and an extra set of arms?" 

The Doctor laughed. "Little Xarg is quite something isn't he?" 

"Little? Doctor, have you seen the boy lately? Not even six months old and already a meter tall!" 

"Well, it's in his species' DNA. If it's any consolation to you, he'll completely stop growing after about a year.", Bashir shrugged. 

"Oh I wasn't complaining.", Garak said "On the contrary. His growth-spurts have earned me quite a substantial sum." 

The Doctor grinned. "I'm afraid human children don't grow quite that fast." 

"What a shame.", Garak shook his head in mock disappoinment. "But on the bright side I trust the O'Briens have better taste in patterns and colours than Xarg's parents. Mrs O'Brien dresses herself very well." 

"I'll be sure to tell her that, but I don't see what's so bad about the way Xarg's parents dress him." 

"You would say that.", Garak commented sarcastically, raising an eyeridge. 

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?", Bashir huffed. 

"Must I really remind you of that _sparkly_ asymmetrical shirt with the cuffed sleeves?" 

The Doctor sighed. "Alright, alright, you told me it was a bad idea and Kira and Jadzia laughed at me so hard they couldn't talk. I threw it out after that." 

Garak smiled at him smugly and Bashir mumbled something that sounded like "Said the man with the watermelon-outfit." Surely he must've misheard. 

"What was that?" 

"Nothing." 

They continued their pleasant conversation, which strayed here and there, and then said goodbye to go their seperate ways. 

It was probably best not to think about it too much and just enjoy the company like he had before all of it started. 

A few days later Garak found himself in a crowded turbolift when Ziyal entered. She looked surprised to see him there and he must've conveyed a similar facial expression. None of them said anything by way of greeting, why would they? They didn't actually know eachother. 

At the second stop the lift cleared unexpectedly, so only the two of them remained, standing as far apart as possible in the tiny space. Sideways-glances went back and forth until Garak finally decided the awkward silence was getting too much. 

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?", he asked. "Normally I would simply make a strategic withdrawal at the first sign of trouble, but there doesn't seem to be a way out of here." 

A small smile was fighting its way on her lips when she looked at him. "You could always call Security." 

"Oh true, but it would take them a few minutes to arrive and by then it might be too late.", he exaggerated the facial expression that went with the statement and now the smile broke through for a few seconds. 

"I don't think I'll hurt you." 

"I'm gratified to hear that.", Garak said. 

"In fact, I think it's safe to say you have nothing to fear from me.", her face was open and friendly. 

The lift reached the promenade and the doors opened. 

"And you, my dear, have nothing to fear from me.", he inclined his head before he made his exit and she returned the gesture. 

So apparently Dukat had found the time to educate his daughter in at least the basics of Cardassian customs. Impressive that such a lovely young woman could spring from that particular gene pool. She must get most of it from her mother. 

Garak felt he had managed that situation quite well. At their next lunch he would rub it in Bashir's smug face. He could be friendly if he wanted to, no hidden motive there. 

What he didn't suspect was that, later that day, Ziyal paid him a visit in his shop, making some small talk and ultimately inviting him to a holosuite program of a Cardassian sauna. 

'Surprise' was a very mild way to describe Garak's emotion towards this offer. What reason could she have to do that? 

Instantly he reviewed his assessment of her character, maybe she wasn't the friendly girl he had taken her for. She _was_ Dukat's daughter afterall. 

Visions of Dukat instructing Ziyal to lure Garak in, and then disembowel him in the most gruesome way, crossed his mind. 

Why had he agreed? 

And again he thought of the Doctor, standing over Garak's corpse, sobbing and exclaiming 'How could I have ever thought he had an ulterior motive? If anyhing he was too friendly, and look at what good it has done him!' 

Well that was a little too dramatic, even for Garak's own mindspace. 

He brooded over the matter for the remainder of the evening, and most of the night as well. Which resulted in him being thoroughly tired at lunch the next day. Though the Doctor's reaction over Ziyal's invitation startled him into wakefulness. 

"She _what_?!", he spluttered after an almost cliché coughing fit from choking on his tea in surprise. 

Garak found that a bit over the top and raised his eyeridges at Bashir. "I was surprised as well, but don't you think you're being a tad dramatic?" 

"No, I mean... yes... I just... ", the Doctor stuttered. "She's rather... forward, isn't she?" 

"So you think Dukat might be behind this as well?", Garak asked, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page for once. 

Bashir blinked at him, confusion impersonated. "What does Dukat have to do with this?" 

Well so much for the same page, let alone the same book. 

"He might have set his daughter up to get revenge on me.", Garak explained patiently. 

"What, by seducing you?" 

"She wouldn't even need to seduce me, she could kill me as soon as I step into the holosuite.", Garak said. 

"Then why choose a _sauna_? There are plenty of options where you don't have to see the person you want to kill half-naked." 

" _Naked_?!", now Garak was confused. 

"Yes, naked apart from a towel, that's usual sauna-attire.", the Doctor answered, and then after a second added "isn't it?" 

Garak started to see what was going on. 

"My dear, I'm afraid there is a cultural misunderstanding here. Would you mind explaining to me what you think a sauna is?" 

"Well, essentially a room with wooden benches and a sort of hearth in the middle, creating steam. People are supposed to sweat, hence the lack of clothes. Isn't that how a Cardassian sauna works?, Bashir said. 

"No", Garak shook his head. "There is no steam or wooden benches. It consists of large slabs of rock, arranged around a heat source. You're meant to enjoy the heat by lying on them. Fully clothed.", he put special emphasis on the last sentence. 

Something like relief washed over the Doctor's face. "Ah, I see. I had thought..." 

Garak interrupted him. "Yes, I can imagine what you thought." 

There was an awkward pause before Bashir picked up the ball again. 

"Do you really think she wants to kill you?" 

"It is a possibility.", Garak answered. 

"I don't think it's very likely.", the Doctor furrowed his brows. "I'm not even sure Ziyal knows why Dukat hates you so much. In any case, why should she do anything about it?" 

"To gain her father's favour?" 

"As far as I know she already has her father's favour. He gave up everything he had for her.", Bashir said. 

"Then as a gesture of gratitude?", Garak suggested. 

The Doctor sighed. "I think you're being paranoid." 

"Paranoia, my dear Doctor, is a very useful thing to have for a person in my profession." 

"As a tailor?", Bashir grinned. 

Garak gave back an ironic smile and their conversation strayed to different topics. Though Garak's mind was still weighing the pros and cons of cancelling the appointment. 

The Doctor seemed equally distracted, but Garak doubted it was for the same reasons. 

Later that day he had a fitting with Quark who was a notoriously difficult customer. He always found something to complain about. 

Garak was almost grateful to Major Kira for interrupting. That was, until she pressed him up against the wall and told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't very happy about Ziyal meeting up with him. 

"You told her.", Quark commented when the Major had gone. "So, are you cancelling your date with Ziyal?" 

Garak looked up from the position he had taken to pin the hem of Quark's pants. "It's not a date. And how do you know about that?" 

"You're a man, she's a woman, it's a date.", Quark said. "And they are my holosuites after all." 

Garak wanted to laugh at this simplistic statement. Was there nothing else than heterosexuality on Ferenginar? What a horrible thought. He made a mental note never to visit. 

"I was going to cancel.", he admitted. "I'd had visions of Ziyal presenting my head to her father as a birthday gift." 

"That's a little paranoid, wouldn't you say?", Quark asked. 

Why was everyone so against paranoia? It had served him well in the past. 

"Paranoid is what they call people who _imagine_ threats against their life. I _have_ threats against my life.", Garak said "But after my little 'chat' with Major Kira, I feel much better." 

"You do?", Quark sounded incredulous. 

"Isn't it obvious?", Garak began explaining his thought process. "If Ziyal planned to kill me, Kira would not be trying to warn me away. On the contrary, the good Major would also welcome my untimely demise and do nothing to interfere.", he closed with a satisfied smile. Finally he had the answer. 

"Unless that's part of the plan.", Quark said. 

Garak's smile faltered. "What do you mean?" 

"Oh you know, Kira acts like she doesn't want you to go so you'll feel everything's OK, and then you go anyway." 

Did it really take a shady bartender to explain this to him? Garak was really getting out of practice. 

"Nah, it's too complicated.", Quark laughed his own suggestion off. 

But was it? Would the Major agree to play a part in such a plan? Well now he was right back where he had started out. 

In the end he decided to take a disruptor with him, just in case. 

When he entered the holosuite, Ziyal was already lying down on one of the big rocks. The heat felt wonderful on his skin. Only in these kinds of moments did he realize how used he had gotten to being permanently cold. 

It was quite a spacious cavern with a big overhead light fixture that was decorated with Cardassian symbols. 

"Garak?", Ziyal raised her head and then got up on her elbows. 

"Hello.", he greeted. 

"Doesn't it feel good?", she asked, a smile on her face. "The station can be so chilly sometimes." 

Since she was half Bajoran she wouldn't feel the cold as severely as he did, but the climate controls on the station clearly weren't her ideal temperature either. 

"Yes.", he agreed "It's quite pleasant." 

"Aren't you going to lie down?", she asked, gesturing to the stone opposite from the one she was occupying. They were positioned so the glowing heat source would be between them. 

"Uh, not just yet.", he said "I have a question I'd like answered first. Why am I here?" 

"Excuse me?", her smile slipped a little. 

"Why am I here?", Garak repeated. "Am I to believe that you've invited the sworn enemy of your father simply to enjoy the heat?" 

She straightened up fully now and the friendly smile was gone. 

"You really think I asked you here to kill you.", it wasn't a question. "Well, it did occur to me. Kira and my father both told me that you used to be an agent of the Obsidian Order. That you had my grandfather tortured and killed, and that you could easily kill me without a second thought." 

"Although I seldom credit the Major or your father with being entirely trustworthy, in this case, they're both telling the truth.", Garak said. 

"You know what else is true?", she asked. "I don't care. I'm half-Bajoran, and that means I'm an outcast back home. I can't go back and neither can you. So, we can either share some time together or we can ignore each other. I spent five years in a prisoner of war camp by myself. I don't _need_ your company, but if you'd like to stay and share the heat with me, maybe tell me something about home that I don't know, then I would welcome your company, and I get the feeling you would welcome mine. Either way it's up to you." 

He was quiet for a second after this speech, then said "Well... it seems I won't be needing this anymore.", he pulled the disruptor out of his pocket a little sheepishly, and placed it on a stone, off to the side. 

Then he got up on the large rock opposite the heat source and made himself comfortable. 

"So... what shall we talk about first?", he asked, propping up his chin with his hand. 

Ziyal's smile was back, apparently she was pleased with the outcome. As was Garak. 

She had a sharp mind and a sheer endless curiosity about Cardassia. Since she had only visited for a short while, most of what she knew was from literature and her father's tales. 

Garak gladly obliged in answering question after question she had. It felt good talking to another Cardassian like that again, but after they parted ways there was a lingering melancholy that trailed even into his dreams. 

In the morning he was left with the impression of the distinct smell of Cardassia Prime and its tall, elegant buildings, pleasant humidity and warmth on his skin. Getting up and out of bed was a struggle, but duty was duty. Wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garak is sad, what else is new^^;


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episodes referenced are "the quickening" and "Body Parts"  
> Almost done now with season 4 :)

"Doctor, are you aware that you've been humming the same melody for the last five minutes while I've been trying to give you my opinion on the 'Jeeves' stories?"

Garak was a little irritated. 

"Oh, sorry.", Bashir smiled sheepishly. "Have you seen Quark's latest attempts at advertisement? It just stays in your head." 

Garak had indeed seen, and more importantly _heard_ the Ferengi's newest scheme to lure customers to his bar. 

"You mean 'Come to Quark's, Quark's is fun'..." 

"...'Come right now, don't walk, run!'", the Doctor completed the jingle. "Yeah, that's the one. My raktajino this morning came in a cup that would start playing it whenever I lifted it." 

"I share your plight, Doctor. Whenever I activate the monitor in my shop, this poor excuse for a song blares along with a flashing graphic, and my lights start flickering in time." 

Bashir snorted in amusement. "Oh I'd really like to see that!" 

"Be my guest.", Garak said. "All of my customers have left in irritation anyway." 

The Doctor was still giggling. 

"I'm sure Miles is already working on it." 

"I certainly hope so.", Garak said a bit sour. 

"Would you mind repeating your opinion on the 'Jeeves' stories?", Bashir asked, changing the topic. "What did you think about Jeeves himself?" 

"Well", Garak began. "I found his companion, Bertie Wooster rather annoying. He seemed to lack any ambition in life, or skills for that matter. Jeeves on the other hand comes across as more sensible than most humans. The only sane person amongst a rather eccentric bunch, which is his purpose as a character I assume?" 

The Doctor nooded. "Yes it is. I knew you'd appreciate him! That's why I picked these stories.", a broad grin spread across Bashir's face. "When I reread them I kept hearing your voice whenever he was speaking." 

Garak raised his eyeridges. "Oh?" 

"You must've seen the similarities. The secrecy, how he always knows a way out of every scenario, the obsession with clothes.", the Doctor explained. "And people only call him by his last name." 

Was that how Bashir saw him? Well, he couldn't deny most of it, and it wasn't exactly negative... 

"Does that make you Bertie Wooster then?", Garak asked teasingly. 

"Oh I would hope not.", the Doctor answered, still amused. "Or do you think so?" 

"To be honest, Doctor", Garak began, "I see some of that 'sunny disposition' in your behaviour, though certainly not the intellect, or lack thereof." 

Bashir smiled "I think I can live with that." 

They discussed the stories further, of course with wildly differing opinions. It had been a tough read for Garak, not just because of the material, but because of the constant use of slang by the narrator. He found it useless and irritating, but the Doctor insisted it added to the humor of the piece. 

At the end of the lunch Garak wished him success for his upcoming mission to the Gamma Quadrant, which he would be taking with Major Kira and Lieutenant Dax. The estimated time it would take was one week, maybe a few days more, so if everything went smoothly, Bashir should be able to make it to their next lunch. 

Garak took the opportunity to remind the Doctor yet again of 'A thousand days in the desert', which he knew Bashir had only gotten half the way through. He got an eyeroll in return and a halfhearted promise to give it a try if there was time. 

They parted in a good mood, each wearing a smile. 

When the Doctor returned one month later, his demeanour was different. 

Odo had informed Garak that Bashir had decided to stay on a planet that was plagued by an illness that befell every single person there, to find a cure. It was so like the Doctor to do something like this, that Garak almost let a fond smile slip. 

Time seemed to flow a little more slowly without the weekly lunches. Garak tried to make up for it by inviting Ziyal instead, but it wasn't the same. He did like spending time with her, but the dynamic was a different one, just as his occasional breakfasts with Odo. 

"I can't believe how arrogant I was, Garak", Bashir said, after he had told Garak what had happened on the planet. "And then I couldn't even fully make up for it. I didn't find a cure, still can't. I've run all the simulations through the computer without anything!" 

"But you did find a vaccine, that's a start.", Garak objected. 

"It didn't help Ekoria or the others who volunteered for me. She will never see her son grow up.", Bashir stared at the tabletop, his mind apparently still trapped on the planet. 

Garak caught himself in time before he could grab the Doctor's hand, resting on the table. He looked so miserable as if the blight was _his_ fault and not that of the Dominion. 

"You did what you could, Doctor.", Garak was surprised how soft his own voice could sound. "You already know what I think about your need to be the hero.", Bashir winced but Garak went on. "But you didn't give up, and you said that she saw her baby was without lesions before she died? Well, isn't that what every parent wants? To know that their child is healthy?" 

Well, not _every_ parent. His own father posed a rather large exception, but he imagined it was something the Doctor needed to hear right now. 

Bashir looked up. "Yes... I suppose so.", but the almost pained expression on his face didn't match what he had said. 

"Did I say something wrong?", Garak had only tried to comfort. 

"No", the Doctor shook his head and the expression was gone. "I'm just... sad. I appreciate you trying to comfort me though." 

Garak gave him a warm smile. 

"Oh, and you'll be glad to hear that I finished 'A thousand days in the desert'. There was some down time whenever I needed to wait for another sequence to process.", Bashir continued. 

"I _am_ glad to hear it. What is your opinion?", Garak asked. 

"I found it strangely comforting. Maybe because the protagonist is also trapped in a repetitive situation. This time I actually kind of appreciated the Cardassian storytelling, perhaps it's growing on me." 

Garak struggled to keep the big smile that wanted to burst out of him to a normal level. The Doctor was finally on the brink of understanding Cardassian literature. Even if it had taken a dire situation for him to relate, this tiny breakthrough still made Garak... happy. More so than it strictly should. 

"My dear Doctor.", he said with gravitas. "I had almost given up hope that this day would ever come." 

A tiny smile stole onto Bashir's face. "Nice that I could make at least one person happy." 

The Doctor was still in his defeated mood and Garak felt an inexplicable urge to change that. 

"Have I ever told you that my grandmother met the author of 'A thousand days in the desert' when she was young?", he asked in a nonchalant manner. 

Bashir shook his head. "No. What was he like?" 

"He was, shall we say... eccentric?" 

Garak proceeded telling the most wild and ridiculous stories he could come up with. Of course it was all lies, he had never met any of his grandparents or the author of 'A thousand days in the desert', who incidentally had died well over four hundred years ago. But the Doctor didn't know that. 

By the end he had produced a few good laughs and some more smiles from Bashir, which had been the goal of the exercise. Garak felt quite pleased with himself. 

Though obviously it wasn't enough to get the Doctor out of his melancholy. It would need time. 

About two weeks later Bashir seemed to have lightened up and he paid Garak a visit in his shop. 

"Ah Doctor", Garak greeted him, "what a nice surprise.", he tried to make his smile less customer service-y. 

"Hello Garak", Bashir gave him a warm smile in return. "Are you busy?" 

"Not particularly, no." 

Garak's last customer had left more than ten minutes before, but he still had about an hour to closing-time. Every distraction was welcome, especially if it came from Bashir. 

"Good", the Doctor said cheerily. "I'm coming for business." 

Garak sighed inwardly. As much as he enjoyed Bashir's company, the man had a simply atrocious sense of fashion. The next hour was probably going to be spent by trying to talk him out of sequins and paisley. _Again_. 

Garak mentally braced himself before asking, "Very well, what did you have in mind? I've just begun working on the spring collection.", he subtly tried to herd the Doctor towards a rack of unicoloured shirts. 

"No, I've come for something a little different this time.", Bashir said. 

Oh dear, that surely meant something truly outrageous. 

"I need a kind of bag.", the Doctor went on. 

"A _kind of_ bag?", Garak asked. 

"For my medical kit.", Bashir explained. "Well, more instead of.", he held up the medical kit that was slung around his shoulder on a strap. 

It was a Federation standard medical kit, a grey hard-plastic case in a kind of oval shape, but it was in no great condition. There were scuffs and marks all over it, even a few tiny cracks. 

"I haven't been using this for very long but I had it with me on my last mission to the Gamma Quadrant. Before that I had only worked with a portable med kit for short periods of time. But since I used this every day for a month I realized how impractical it really is.", the Doctor went on. 

Garak nodded. "I can see that.", inspecting the kit closer. "It does seem a bit awkwardly shaped." 

"Yeah, I kept bumping it into things. For something that is made for emergencies it's not actually that well thought-out. Also with fabric it might not be as uncomfortable when it smacks me in the leg.", Bashir grinned. 

Garak made an amused noise. 

"I would need to know all the instruments that should fit in." 

"I already made a sort of plan.", the Doctor handed him a padd with a messy sketch. "And I can leave the kit with all the instruments here so you can measure them." 

"Do you think that is wise, Doctor?", Garak raised an eyeridge at him and pulled one of his mischievous faces. 

Not even blinking, Bashir replied "All of these have been deactivated, they're useless. I've also taken all the medicine and pills out of the containers." 

Garak grinned at him proudly. He shouldn't have expected less. 

"What a shame.", he said, still smiling. "You know, just yesterday Quark came by and asked me to kill him, some sort of overdose on something or other would've made things more smooth." 

"He _what_?", the Doctor looked horrified. 

"Don't fret my dear, I am not planning on going through with it, or I wouldn't have told you." 

Bashir was so stunned he just managed a "Why?" 

"Why am I not going through with it, or why did he ask me?" 

"Well, both.", the Doctor said. 

"Quark thought he was going to die of Dorek syndrome, quite a rare disease that only befalls Ferengi, as he explained.", Garak started. 

Bashir cut in. "Oh, so that's what Doctor Orpax talked about! But hang on, he said to tell Quark he _didn't_ have Dorek syndrome.", the confusion formed an adorable little crease between his eyebrows. 

"Yes.", Garak agreed. "This is where the problem comes in. Good old Quark, in Ferengi tradition had put up his vacuum-desiccated remains for auction and the highest bidder simply insisted on receiving his merchandise." 

The Doctor shook his head in disbelief. "That's just...", he seemed lost for words. 

"Barbaric? I agree.", Garak nodded. 

"So he wants you to kill him so he can keep to the contract?" 

"Yes, I'm afraid so, but as I said I am not going to kill him. He doesn't really mean it anyway, but I do admit deriving a sort of joy from scaring him a little. He thinks I could surprise him any minute.", Garak chuckled lightly. 

"Garak! That's horrible!", Bashir called out, but Garak could also see a tiny shimmer of amusement in his face. 

Garak shrugged. "I expect sooner or later he will come to me and call the whole thing off." 

"Will he get his latinum back?", the Doctor had raised one eyebrow into a knowing expression. 

"I'm still debating it.", Garak said, casually inspecting his fingernails. 

Bashir laughed. "And here I thought _I_ had a couple of weird days." 

"Oh?", Garak was intrigued 

"You know that I went to Torad V with Keiko and Kira for three days?" 

Garak nodded. "Professor O'Brien wanted to take some samples of the flora." 

"Yes", the Doctor said "On the way back we had some difficulties with the runabout and Keiko got thrown against a bulk head. She was severely injured but I could stabilize her. It was a very high risk for the baby, his autonomic functions were failing. So... I transferred him to Kira." 

"Well...", Garak remarked, taken aback. 

Bashir nodded "Exactly." 

"What was the general reaction?", Garak asked, imagining a lot of shouting. 

"Surprisingly both Keiko and Kira took it quite well. Miles was a bit... overwhelmed. Especially so because Kira will need to carry the baby to term. It's too risky to transfer him back now that he's bonded to Kira, Bajoran pregnancies work a little different than human ones." 

"Well, I can definitely see how this would constitute as a 'weird couple of days'.", Garak smirked, the image of the situation was quite comical. 

The Doctor chuckled lightly. "At least I can get a decent medical paper out of it, I've never heard of something like this being done before, not between species." 

"Always the scientist.", Garak smiled. "But to come back to your commission, what kind of fabric did you have in mind?" 

Bashir shrugged. "Oh I don't know, whatever you think is best, you're the expert here." 

"Are you sure?", Garak asked. 

"Quite sure.", the Doctor said. "I just need something sturdy that fits everything, the rest is up to you." 

"Very well.", Garak was a little flattered that Bashir had apparently learned to trust him in questions of style. 

'Trust'? Really? Why was he suddenly glad to have someone's trust, even if it was just about something banal like fabric-choice? 

He looked down at the padd in his hands. The sketch was messy but readable, he could work with that. 

"Oh, before I forget.", the Doctor smiled at him in a way that made Garak think that he hadn't almost forgotten at all, but just waited for the right opportunity. "I've done a bit of research on Elas Kalar, you made him sound so interesting." 

Elas Kalar was the author of 'A thousand days in the desert'. 

"Oh?", Garak asked, not changing his friendly smile and showing that he had been caught lying. 

"Your grandmother must've met him when she was very young, and lived to a very old age.", Bashir's eyes danced with amusement. 

"Yes", Garak agreed with a casual grin, "She was a hardy old thing." 

The Doctor chuckled, then in a soft voice he said "Thank you." 

"Not at all.", Garak answered in a similarly soft voice. He knew what Bashir meant. 

Then the Doctor left, leaving Garak to his work.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "Broken Link"

Designing and constructing the bag was a welcome challenge and a change from all the usual clothes and items he made.

He measured everything that needed to fit, consulted Bashir's scribble and added all the numbers to get an accurate pattern. The Doctor had requested a bit of extra space for miscellaneous equipment that was not part of the Starfleet issued med kits. Very sensible, with that he could react to the situation and pack items specific to it. Different species had different needs after all. 

Garak decided to add another secret pocket in a false bottom. Just in case. 

The body of the bag was a rectangle, keeping it simple, with a flap over the front to close it. An adjustable strap that connected the sides so it could be worn on the shoulder or across. 

Coming up with a colour-scheme was trickier. In the end Garak decided to stay with the Starfleet colours. The outer fabric was a tightly woven, thick black cloth, all the seams double-stitched for good measure. On the inside lining he used a soft velvety material that would cushion all the technical instruments. The shade of grey resembled that of the shirts the officers wore under their uniforms. 

The flap got a stripe of teal at the bottom, signalling to everyone Starfleet's science department. But Garak's masterpiece was the embroidery above it, showing the sign of the medical profession, a sort of snake winding around a figure with wings. It sat in an abstract kind of frame, resembling Cardassian design in its geometric forms. 

Garak was quite proud of it. Functional and yet elegant, what a contrast to the usual clinical Federation design. 

"... It's waterproof and also collapsible, like so.", Garak concluded his presentation and opened two fastenings at the sides of the bag to unfold it to a flat piece of fabric. 

Bashir's face lit up. "Garak, that's fantastic!" 

Garak inclined his head with a broad smile "How good of you to say, Doctor." 

"No really, I mean it!", Bashir refastened the sides and inspected all the pockets excitedly "It's exactly how I pictured it but even better!" 

"I'm relieved that you approve.", Garak said even though he hadn't doubted it. 

"Thank you.", the Doctor beamed, pressing the bag to his chest like a rare prize. 

"My pleasure." 

This encounter left Garak in an exceptionally good mood. Humming to himself, he went around rearranging some displays, adding an accent here and there. Somehow he felt it a pity there was nobody there to share in his high spirits. 

But when Aroya, one of his newer customers, stepped into the shop, an idea started to form in his head. 

He greeted her with a big smile, inquiring if she was looking for something particular. 

"No, not really.", she replied, "just something nice.", she had a lovely smile. 

"I think I have just the right thing.", Garak led her to a rack, roaming around until he had found what he was looking for. He held up the dress. It was knee-length with matching leggings and organza drapery on the right arm. The shade was a muted orange. 

She was positively beaming and went to one of the dressing rooms right away. 

That was the chance Garak had been waiting for. He messaged Odo to come to the shop, keeping it short but not giving a reason. 

It had been months since Major Kira had started her relationship to first minister Shakaar, but the constable still brooded about it. Not openly, oh no. But Garak could read between the lines. Maybe it was time for some distraction. 

Thankfully Odo arrived timely. "You wanted to see me, Garak?" 

"Ah! Constable.", Garak greeted him, fussing with some cloth to appear to have been busy. "How good of you to stop by." He glanced towards the dressing rooms, hoping Aroya would emerge before Odo decided to leave again. 

Apparently the motion hadn't gone unnoticed. 

"A shoplifter?", the constable asked. 

"Excuse me?", Garak asked innocently, hoping to buy time. 

"Is something wrong?", Odo asked, now a tad irritated. 

Before he needed to make something up, Aroya announced "Here I come." and stepped into the main room. "What do you think?" 

Garak couldn't have hoped for a better entrance. She twirled around playfully with a big smile. 

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever.", Garak recited, hoping the constable would notice as well and giving him a sideways look. 

"Oh well then, put it on my account.", she said "I'll wear it to work." 

"A splendid idea", Garak commented. 

When neither Odo nor Aroya said anything, he went on. "Ah. Security Chief Odo, I'd like to introduce you to Chalan Aroya, one of my best customers." 

He sincerely hoped she would stay one of his best customers. 

Odo inclined his head by way of greeting. 

Thankfully Aroya wasn't shy. "I own the Celestial Cafe.", she said extending her hand towards the constable. "The new Bajoran restaurant overlooking the Promenade?" 

Odo took the hand. "I... I'm familiar with it." It took him a few seconds before he realized he had held it a little too long, then let go. 

"I watch you walk by every morning when you're on patrol.", Aroya said. "0937. You're very precise.", her smile could probably charm a Cardassian vole into playing fetch. 

This was going a lot better than Garak had thought. 

"How... nice of you to notice.", Odo gave Garak a confused look, but Garak just smiled at him, hoping to convey reassurance. 

"I was hoping one day you might stop in.", she said. "when you're not working." 

"Uh... I don't eat." 

Garak rolled his eyes. Really Odo? 

"I do.", she said "and I hate to eat alone." 

That woman was persistent! Garak hadn't even known she apparently had a thing for the constable. 

When Odo failed to reply she went on "Think about it.", she walked towards the door. "Oh, and next time you're on the second level, don't forget to say hello.", then she was gone. 

When she was out of earshot, the constable said "The next time you call me it had better be to report a crime." 

Garak sighed deeply. Apparently that's what you got for trying to be nice. 

"Now that you mention it", he said sharply "I've just witnessed a crime: Letting Aroya walk out of here without arranging a date. You should be locked away for that." 

Odo shook his head, irritated. "You humanoids, you're all obsessed with these convoluted mating rituals." 

"True", Garak said cheerfully "but do you think we'd waste so much time on something that wasn't worthwhile? I'll never understand you. You're such a sensitive man yet there are so many aspects of humanoid life that you simply refuse to explore." 

The constable shrugged uncomfortably. "I have no desire to become a slave to humanoid obsessions." 

Oh but he already was. And if he didn't sort out his feelings for the Major soon, Garak was afraid Odo might just crumble. Or erupt like a volcano, spouting goo everywhere. Whichever was more likely for a Changeling. Neither of them a pleasant scenario to imagine. 

"But you have to admit", Garak tried again, more softly. "she is quite lovely." 

Finally Odo conceded "Well... she is, isn't she?" 

Then he looked back at Garak who gave him a knowing grin, and harrumphed in his usual manner. He made a move to go, but abruptly stopped, clinging to a clothes rack next to him. 

The constable started to groan, staggering a few steps. 

"Odo!", Garak was alarmed, "what's wrong?" 

"I... I don't know.", the constable stuttered, then another wave of pain seemed to shake his body. Garak could see the swirling texture of goo appear in his middle. Apparently it was hard for Odo to keep his humanoid form. 

He cried out a few times before collapsing to the ground, unconscious. 

Quickly Garak was at his side, pressing the comm badge. "Garak to Doctor Bashir. I need a medical emergency team sent to my shop immediately." 

It didn't take long for Bashir to come running in, followed by two nurses. 

"What happened?", he asked when he saw the constable on the floor, already crouching down. 

"I don't really know", Garak said "He was about to leave when some kind of pain seemed to grip him and he cried out. I had the impression it was hard for him to keep his shape. Then he collapsed." 

The Doctor nodded, taking all of it in without looking at Garak, only focused on his patient. 

With a detached kind of joy Garak realized that Bashir was already using the new bag for his med kit. 

The Doctor furrowed his brow. "There's nothing much I can do right here, we need to transport him to the infirmary." 

Soon after, Bashir, nurses and patient were beamed away. 

Garak was alone again. He certainly hoped he hadn't somehow caused this... fit? Suddenly the image of the constable exploding like a volcano with romantic frustration didn't seem so funny anymore. 

Was it possible that Changelings were deathly allergic to attraction? 

Oh now he was just being silly. Or was he? 

Garak shook his head and straightened up the rack Odo had clung to. He was genuinely worried about the constable. 

That evening, when he had closed up his shop and walked down the promenade, Garak ran into Bashir again. He inquired after Odo and the Doctor's face darkened. That wasn't a good sign. 

"At the rate the illness is progressing I'd say he'll lose the ability to hold his shape in about two weeks.", Bashir said. 

"Oh... and after that?" 

The Doctor's face told him there wasn't much of an 'after that'. 

"We're thinking about taking him to the Founder's home planet, they might be able to help.", Bashir said, looking apprehensive about it. 

Garak raised his eyeridges. "That is quite a risk." 

The Doctor nodded. "But I hope their motto 'no Changeling harms another' extends to the people who bring a sick Changeling to them." 

"Well, I certainly hope so too. I assume you will accompany the constable on the trip?", Garak asked. 

"I'm his Doctor, what else would I do?" 

"Of course, my dear. Then I wish you all success with the mission so Odo can make a speedy recovery. I trust you will take good care of him.", he gripped Bashir's hand with both of his and shook it. 

He was rewarded with a smile. "Thank you Garak, I'm sure Odo appreciates it too." 

Then both inclined their heads in goodbye and went their separate ways. 

That was interesting news. The Founder's home planet? Interesting indeed... 

The next morning, Garak stood at the docking space of the Defiant, a bag filled with the bare necessities slung over his shoulder, requesting to come aboard. 

The Starfleet officer on duty sighed, then pressed her comm badge to announce the request to her higher up. Garak thanked her with a pleasant smile. 

It took a short while until he was permitted and led into the mess hall. There he was to wait for Captain Sisko under the watchful eyes of two Security Officers. He tried to make small talk, but the two men didn't seem terribly interested in Garak's ideas about accessorizing Starfleet uniforms. 

Finally Sisko arrived and Garak greeted him politely. 

"Ah, Captain, how good of you to see me." 

The two officers were dismissed and Garak caught the glance they were exchanging. How rude, one should think they would've been taught better manners at the Academy. 

"Make it brief, Garak.", Sisko said. 

So Garak cut right to the chase. "I'd like to accompany you on your mission. There are some questions I'd like to ask the Founders." 

"Such as?", the Captain asked. 

"The Cardassian Empire lost a number of warships during their aborted attack on the Dominion. I want to know what happened to the crew members." 

Specifically one of them. If there was even the smallest chance of Enabran Tain still being alive, Garak needed to know. He would never truly believe that tough bastard was dead without seeing his corpse. Or some other form of proof. 

"I was under the impression that those ships were destroyed with all hands.", Sisko stated. 

"Oh, we don't know that for a fact.", Garak said. "As I recall, when the Defiant left the scene of the battle, there were a number of Cardassian warships still fighting." 

"Ah, and you think some of their crew members might have been taken prisoner.", the Capatain caught on. 

"I live in hope.", Garak said. "Besides, if you do take me along, I think you'll find me quite useful. I'm a man of many talents." 

Sisko breathed deeply. "I have no need for a tailor on this mission, let alone a spy... but maybe there is something you can do for me.", there was a glint in his eye. "This is going to be a long trip for Odo. I need someone to occupy his attention, take his mind off his condition." 

"You want me to keep him company.", Garak suggested. He wasn't sure about the prospect of playing nursemaid to a cranky constable, but he would do it if necessary. 

"No.", the Captain said bluntly. "Anyone can do that. Dax, Bashir, myself. And what would we have to offer him? Kindness, sympathy. That's the last thing he wants." 

"But where you offer kindness, I offer mystery", Garak caught what Sisko was proposing, "Where you offer sympathy I offer intrigue. Just give me a seat next to Odo's bed and I promise you I'll conjure up enough innuendoes, half-truths and bald-faced lies about my so-called career in the Obsidian Order to keep the constable distracted for days. If there's one thing Cardassians excel at it's conversation." 

He might've gone a bit overboard with his enthusiasm, but apparently the Captain seemed pleased. 

"You've got yourself a job." 

Garak inclined his head to show his gratitude. 

"But", Sisko went on, "all questions for the Founders will have to wait until after Odo gets the help he needs." 

"We share the same priorities, Captain.", Garak agreed. 

"Make sure you remember that.", Sisko said, for one moment letting the amiable facade slip, showing the steel underneath. He was not a man to be trifled with. 

Dutifully Garak went right to work. Odo's condition was visibly worse than when he had collapsed in Garak's shop. Parts of him looked like he was melting. 

A cold shiver ran down Garak's back at the sight. It was too reminiscent of what _he_ had done to the constable not too long ago. Maybe this was how he would pay him back. 

Coming up with enough material wasn't difficult, Garak could talk for hours on end if necessary, with only barely enough pause to breathe. 

While he entertained Odo, Bashir took more tests and samples, pressed buttons and generally cared as best for his patient as he could. But he was apparently also listening with half an ear, cause sometimes Garak caught an amused smile or grin. 

The Doctor had heard some of these stories before, although not neccessarily the same version. He might have also recognized a handful of plots and character names from Cardassian books sprinkled in. To his credit he didn't comment on it. 

"... Ah yes, the assassination of Proconsul Merrok of Romulus.", Garak reacted to an inquiry from the constable. "Such a tragedy. I met him once, a few weeks before he died. I was working as a gardener at the Cardassian Embassy during the..." 

"You were a gardener on Romulus?", Odo interrupted. 

"My speciality was Edosian Orchids.", Garak confirmed. What a pity he didn't have the space and right equipment to keep some orchids in his quarters, they might brighten up the place. 

"Beautiful", he said, "but highly toxic." 

"As I recall", the constable said slowly, "Proconsul Merrok was poisoned." 

"Funny...", Garak did a purposely poor impression of bafflement "I don't remember that, but then again, so many Romulan Dignitaries died unexpectedly that year." 

None from Edosian Orchids though, that would've been far too obvious. Their poison worked quickly but had also quite unique traits. Garak had used a clear liquid that was almost impossible to trace in the bloodstream. And if it was detected it gave no clue whatsoever as to where it came from. 

Otherwise the whole affair would've likely turned into the plot of one of the human crime novels the constable was so fond of reading. Where in most cases the murderer was either the butler or the gardener. 

"Must be hard to keep them all straight.", the Doctor commented on the many deaths in the embassy while taking Odo's vital signs. 

"Oh you can't imagine.", Garak grinned. 

"Maybe", Bashir said, with a little more force, "we should let the constable get some rest.", he gave Garak a look over Odo's back. 

But Odo protested. "I'll let you know when I need rest, Doctor." 

Bashir sighed defeatedly and went back to his work. The constable probably wasn't the easiest patient. 

"A gardener...", Odo went on. "at the Cardassian Embassy on Romulus? Hmm, fascinating." 

They went on in that vein until Garak had truly lost track of time. It must've been hours. 

Bashir had settled down in a chair, one leg pulled up on the seat and resting his chin on the knee. Evidently there wasn't anything else to do. His eyes were half closed, staring dazed into the middle ground. 

The constable looked more droopy as well and when Garak had finished his current story he stopped. 

"Odo", he said softly "I think it would be wise for you to rest for a bit, we can continue later." 

To his surprise there was no protest from the constable, just a small nod before he closed his eyes and melted a little more. 

Garak turned around and met Bashir's gaze. The Doctor smiled, got up and gestured for Garak to follow him to the adjacent room of the sickbay where they wouldn't disturb Odo. 

Bashir yawned and stretched his arms. "Seems like the Captain was right about taking you along, Odo has never made less of a fuss about me 'doctoring' him.", he made air-quotes around the word 'doctoring'. 

Garak smiled. "Glad to be of service." 

"But you haven't told me _why_ you're here yet.", the Doctor said with a gleam in his eyes. 

"If you're expecting some convoluted secret reason, I must disappoint you, Doctor. I merely plan to ask the Founders if there were any Cardassian survivors after the attack on their homeworld.", Garak told him. 

"Do you think they'll tell you the truth? If they took some Cardassians prisoner maybe they hope to extract State secrets from them.", Bashir speculated. 

Smart man, he was learning afterall. 

"They might be open to negotiation after they find the Cardassian mind unbreakable.", Garak joked. 

The Doctor chuckled and shook his head, then he got serious again. 

"Are you hoping Tain did survive?" 

"I'm hoping that a lot of my people survived", Garak evaded the question. "Tain might be among them.", he added. 

Bashir nodded thoughtfully. "Well, don't do anything stupid." 

"Me, Doctor?", Garak asked in a mocking tone. "Never!" 

The Doctor grinned, but through the amusement Garak could see concern. 

A short while later the ship came to a full stop and the Captain informed the Doctor that a Founder was on the way to sickbay. 

Garak felt actually a bit nervous, and he could see that the Doctor too was a little agitated. 

"How do I look, Doctor?", he asked Bashir. 

What he got back was an annoyed "Does it matter?", while the Doctor busied himself with one of his machines. 

"Of course it matters. I'm here as a representative of the Cardassian Empire and I want to make a good first impression." 

Well, inofficial representative, but nonetheless that was no excuse to make a bad impression. Since he got nothing from Bashir - typical - he turned to Odo. 

"Constable, what do you think?" 

"I think the Romulans poisoned Proconsul Merrok and you were the one responsible for the transporter accident that killed Subcommander Ustard.", Odo said. 

Interesting but unhelpful. 

"You're getting warmer.", Garak teased, "but how do I look?" 

What he got back was just a groan from the constable before the door to sickbay swished open. 

"May I come in?", the Changeling asked. 

"You'll pardon me if I don't get up.", Odo retorted. 

"Poor Odo", she crooned, "look what's become of you." 

"Not a pretty sight, am I?" 

It was a small relief that even in this situation the Constable hadn't lost his penchant for sarcasm. 

"Pretty?", the Changeling asked, "I wasn't aware you applied such value to your outward appearance. Such concerns are more fitting for solids." 

Good to know that Garak had just fretted in vain about his 'outward appearance' since the Founders felt themselves above such things apparently. 

With her, two Jem'Hadar soldiers had entered the room. 

"Excuse me", Bashir piped up, "I, um, don't mean to interrupt but is there anything you can do for him?" 

"Odo", the Changeling said, reaching for the constable, "give me your hand." 

When she saw that he was hesitating, she added "Don't be afraid." 

He conceded. 

Garak watched fascinated as energy seemed to transfer from her body to Odo's. The constable groaned, but when the process was done, he looked his normal self again. No part of him was melting anymore, although his face was still shinier than usual. 

"Amazing", Garak couldn't help but utter. 

"Feeling better?", the Changeling asked. 

"Yes, though I still have to concentrate to hold my form.", Odo said. 

Turning to one of the monitors, Bashir remarked "Your molecular structure is still fluctuating but it's nowhere near as unstable as it was." 

Garak turned towards the monitor as well. Not that he knew anyhing about what was displayed there but it seemed like the thing to do. 

"Leave now.", the Changeling had the tone of voice that was used to being obeyed. "I wish to speak to Odo in private." 

"Odo is my patient.", Bashir attempted to protest when a Jem'Hadar stepped towards him, weapon charged. 

"It's all right Doctor.", the constable said raising his hand. 

"Then I'll be right outside.", Bashir looked less than happy about having to leave his patient. 

Just when Garak took a deep breath to say something, the Doctor interrupted him. "It can wait, Garak.", he coupled it with a stern look that Garak knew not to take lightly. 

"Of course", he said, inclining his head politely. 

The Jem'Hadar were sent outside as well, so they all just stood in the corridor like some schoolchildren, while the adults were talking. 

"What was that?", Bashir hissed next to his ear, "we need to think about Odo first, then you can ask about the survivors." 

"My apologies, Doctor.", Garak whispered back, "I just thought I might introduce myself beforehand." 

"You can do that later, after Odo is healed.", Bashir said. 

"I just hope there _is_ a chance _later_." 

It wasn't that he didn't care about the constable's recovery, but his questions weren't exactly unimportant either. And since there was only one Founder there, he intended to use every chance he got. 

They didn't have a lot to talk about apparently, since it didn't take long before the door opened again. 

"You may go in now, Doctor.", the Changeling announced. 

"Thank you", Bashir answered with as much sarcasm as he could muster. 

"Try not to disturb him.", she continued, impassive to the Doctor's grumbling. "He needs his rest." 

"I'll bear that in mind.", Bashir said gruffly, stepping into sickbay. 

The Founder went to leave, so Garak followed. Now was his chance. 

"Excuse me, madam.", he called after her politely, "May I have a moment of your time?" 

"You are Cardassian.", she said, not turning around to face him and walking. 

"That's right", he acknowledged, tailing after her, "and on behalf of my people I'd like to learn if there were any survivors after our attack on your homeland." 

"Cardassian survivors?", the Changeling asked, now finally turning around. 

"Yes", Garak confirmed, giving her his best non-threatening customer-service-smile. 

"There were no Cardassian survivors.", her voice was hard as steel when she said it. 

Garak was startled. "You mean... they're all dead?" 

That was a statistical improbability, surely there must've been some. Unless... 

"They're dead.", she said, at the same time hard and unfeeling. " _You're_ dead. Cardassia is dead. Your people were doomed the moment they attacked us. I believe that answers your question." 

Garak's blood had turned to ice. With a shred of discipline he managed to say "It was a pleasure meeting you.", before turning to go as to not lose face. 

His breath came heavy and his heart started to pound. They would destroy Cardassia. Not just conquer it, no. The Founders wanted to wipe out the whole Cardassian race, kill every man, woman and child. 

That was what she had said between the lines, wasn't it? 

There must've been survivors, but since she denied it, that could only mean they had them all killed. Executed in cold blood. No prisoners, just corpses. 

For a moment he felt nauseous. 

And that would happen to all of Cardassia. To his _home_. 

The city he had grown up in, the house full of memories, mostly troubling ones. But he loved his city, his Cardassia, and the people who lived in it. All the beautiful buildings, museums, the streets and atmosphere. 

Even if the Dominion didn't succeed, there would still be a war. Destruction, lives lost. Unless somehow it didn't come to that. If someone were to do something. Something reckless. 

Someone in a unique position... 

Garak's stomach clenched. Was he really willing to sacrifice this much? He had always prided himself on his instinct for survival, he could just ignore the opportunity, do the smart thing. Live. When war came he could be gone from Deep Space Nine within hours, hide in a safe space until it was over. Had the government and the Order really done such a terrific job at instilling such loyalty towards Cardassia in him that he was seriously considering doing something like this? 

The answer was a resounding yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the drama begin^^  
> Oh man, the next one is gonna be really tough. Garak trying to wipe out a whole planet and then Julian reacting to it, oh dear >.<  
> I'm not sure why I put the whole thing with the bag in, I just saw a tutorial for some kind of multi-purpose bag on youtube and got the idea. I think it adds a little more intimacy between Garak and Julian after they've sort of drifted apart into this weird kind of relationship-limbo. Also a nice segue to Garak trying to play cupid^^


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is still "Broken Link"

It took a little less than three hours to reach the Founders' planet. 

Since he wasn't needed in sickbay anymore, Garak brooded in the room that had been assigned to him. He had mulled it over in his head continuously, only to reach the same conclusion again, the one he had come to when the idea first entered his mind. 

He would do it. Needed to do it. 

For Cardassia. 

Oh how trite that sounded! Like something a hero from a second-rate war novel would say. 

How ironic that Garak would now finish what Tain had begun. But then again, had it ever been any other way? 

When the Defiant had reached her destination, Garak sneaked out of his room unseen. Not that anybody would have objected to him walking freely around the ship. He wasn't a prisoner, for the duration of the trip he was a member of the crew. 

He found an access hatch behind which he assumed the controls for the quantum torpedoes and phasers lay. There was a bit of crawling to do, but finally he found what he was looking for. 

Why were these kinds of things always built so very small? At least there was light, but Garak's mind was agitated. Which, to be fair, was to be expected, given what he was about to do. 

The concentration on the work at hand was a good way to occupy his mind and prevent himself from falling into panic. Or deciding to abort the whole thing. It wasn't every day that one decided to wipe out an entire planet in a suicide mission. 

Maybe the crew of the Defiant would even survive. If they turned him over to the Jem'Hadar and told them that Garak had worked alone, maybe they would believe them. Maybe the Jem'Hadar would only take them prisoner. 

No, he needed to shake these thoughts. Thinking about all the people on this ship who had done nothing to deserve the fate they were going to face, would only make it harder. 

His hands started to shake. 

Then he heard a noise. The tremor in his hands stopped as he listened. 

It didn't repeat, so he started to work again. Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, yanking him back and throwing him against the wall with brutal force. 

"Garak", Commander Worf bellowed. "Just as I thought." 

"Don't tell me.", Garak said, heart pounding "I overlooked one of the security monitors." 

A rookie mistake, how could he have been so careless? 

"You were trying to override the launch controls for the quantum torpedoes.", Worf said in a menacing tone while closing the small distance in the cramped room. 

"I was hoping to gain control of the phasers as well.", Garak elaborated. "I just hadn't got around to it yet." There was no use in denying anything when he had been caught red-handed. 

Worf grabbed him by the arm. 

"Don't you see?", Garak asked in desperation, "We have an opportunity here, a chance to end the Dominion threat once and for all. We have enough firepower on this ship to turn that planet into a smoking cinder. Personally, I think that would be a very good thing." 

"And what about Odo?", Worf snarled. "and Captain Sisko and Doctor Bashir?" 

Garak winced inwardly. Bashir was on the planet? 

"They'll die!", Garak almost yelled. He knew he must look like a madman. "And once the Jem'Hadar ships realize what we're doing, so will we! But what are our lives compared to saving the entire Alpha Quadrant?" 

"We are not here to wage war.", Worf retorted, yanking Garak's arm, who freed himself momentarily. 

"I'm not talking about war.", Garak yelled, "What I'm proposing is wiping out every Founder on that planet, obliterating the Great Link. Come now, Mr Worf, you're a Klingon. Don't tell me you'd object to a little genocide in the name of self-defense." 

Worf growled. "I am a warrior, not a murderer." 

"What you are is a great disappointment.", Garak said before he threw a punch at the Klingon, knocking him back. 

But Worf was quick on his feet and grabbed Garak, who tried another punch. This time Worf was prepared and put his hands around Garak's throat. Garak could free himself and they exchanged a few blows and hits. Ultimately though, Worf was too strong and Garak ended up on the ground. 

The Commander bent over him. "You fight well... for a tailor." 

Garak couldn't say anything, the air had been knocked out of him as he hit the ground. 

Roughly he got picked up and dragged out through the access hatch. The waiting security Officers escorted him to a holding cell. 

Half an eternity passed, and then another. Someone came to bring him food, so it must've been a few hours. Garak didn't know when they had taken off from the planet again but ultimately Odo appeared in front of his cell. 

He wasn't wearing his uniform but sort of blue pajamas, arms as usually crossed in front of his chest. His face wasn't melting anymore, so apparently he was healed, though he carried himself differently. 

Garak got up from from the cot. "Constable." 

"Garak.", Odo nodded. 

"How good to see you've made such a speedy recovery.", Garak said. 

He got another nod and a mumble as an answer. 

Garak took in a deep breath. "I'm guessing you've been told why I'm in here?" 

"I have. But I didn't come to discuss it, Captain Sisko will decide what's going to happen with you. I came because I need to utilise your skills as a tailor... I need a new uniform." 

Garak raised both eyeridges in surprise. "But... constable, I thought you...", he didn't really know where that sentence was going but luckily Odo interrupted. 

"I have been judged by my people for killing one of our own.", his gaze was glued to the floor. "As a punishment the Great Link made me... solid." 

"Oh", was the only sound Garak could manage. 

"So you see the new demand for clothing." 

"Yes... yes of course, I will get to work on it as soon as we reach the station.", Garak said, rattled by Odo's predicament. It hadn't been a great day for anyone then. 

The constable nodded and walked away without another word. 

Captain Sisko was really more exasperated than angry. Probably more because of all the paperwork this caused than anything else. 

Since nobody was really sure under which jurisdiction Garak would fall, his 'trial' was quite a subdued affair. Technically he was still a Cardassian citizen, but his exile meant that, should the Federation decide to hand him over to the Cardassian government, he would be executed on the spot. Without a trial. 

Both Sisko and Garak agreed that this would not be an ideal outcome. So the Captain decided to call a hearing with most senior officers present. Garak got to tell his side of the story and Commander Worf relayed how he had captured him, with the two officers who had accompanied him acting as witnesses. 

The result were six months in a holding cell, a much lower punishment than Garak had expected. He was even grateful that Sisko hadn't decided to involve Federation command. 

Bashir had watched the trial stone-faced. No emotion crossed his features, no anger or sadness, just blank neutrality. It was unsettling. 

But before Garak would report for his arrest, he needed to do what Odo had asked for. 

"How does it feel?", Garak asked when the Constable exited the dressing room. "Are you comfortable? Not too tight?", he fussed with the shoulders of the garment. 

"It's fine.", Odo grumbled, "Though it does make me feel a bit..." 

"Itchy?", Garak supplied. "It's the Inkarian wool. You'll get used to it." 

He didn't like working with Inkarian wool, it was a stroppy material, but sadly it was regulation for Bajoran uniforms. 

"Unless of course, you're allergic to Inkarian wool.", he went on. 

"No, it's not the uniform.", the constable said. "I... I think I'm... hungry?" 

"You know, I envy you.", Garak said heartfelt, "Well, think of all the wonderful foods you'll get to enjoy for the first time." 

Odo scoffed. "I can hardly wait.", he pulled a face far from excited. "Well", he went on "you've done your job. Now I have to do mine." 

"Yes", Garak sighed "I suppose you do. Six months in a holding cell, hmm? The thought is unattractive, to say the least." 

"Well if you ask me, Captain Sisko let you off lightly. Sabotage, assaulting a Federation officer, attempting to incite war between the Federation and the Dominion." 

"Yes, but my heart was in the right place.", Garak argued. And he would stand by that. 

The constable scoffed again, but there was the hint of a smile on his face. 

"There you are Odo.", suddenly Aroya stood in the doorway. "I've been looking all over for you. I heard about what happened. I'm so sorry." 

"Oh... thank you", the constable said. 

"I know it won't be easy, but eventually you'll see how being a humanoid has its advantages.", she batted her eyelashes. "If there's anything at all I can do, just let me know.", then she left with a friendly nod. 

Garak grinned. "What a generous offer." 

Odo just sighed. "Let's go Garak." 

Garak made no protest. Well, not until he saw the jumpsuit he was supposed to wear during his incarceration. 

He was allowed to bring books, a small mercy preventing his mind from scratching itself raw. Garak didn't regret his actions, but that didn't mean he was completely fine with the decision he had made. Being alone for such a prolonged period, books or not, brought about uncomfortable thoughts he had no choice but to face. Surely a big part of why confinement was considered a punishment. 

Bashir had once mentioned a human saying, "Hell is other people." Well, whoever came up with that had probably never experienced the inside of Garak's head. 

The first week, he spent in a constant state of unease. Being locked in a fairly small cell didn't help his claustrophobia. When it got too much and the walls started caving in, he paced around, keeping the panic at bay. It could be worse, at least the cell was well-lit and through the force field he could see the big room outside. 

The bits of sleep he caught were filled with nightmares, some of them familiar faces he hadn't experienced since childhood. The cupboard was a frequent guest, but that was probably to be expected in these circumstances. 

Ziyal came to visit him at the end of the week, sweet girl. She didn't mention what he had done, didn't say if she approved or disagreed, so Garak didn't press. He was glad for the company. She caught him up on station-gossip, something he couldn't extract from Odo, who he exchanged a few words with before his shift started. She also brought him more reading-material, some of it Bajoran literature Major Kira had recommended to her, and Ziyal thought Garak might enjoy as well. He thanked her, though he doubted he would find pleasure in it. 

With unusual restraint he kept himself from asking after the Doctor, though he suspected Ziyal knew he wanted to. She promised him to come every week, that was how often Odo permitted visitors. With that to look forward to, his unease receded a little, though he still felt miserable. 

The second week Ziyal visited, she brought a sketch pad and charcoal. 

"It's a great opportunity", she said with an impish grin as she sat down in front of the cell and started drawing. "this way you can't tell me I'm wasting my time and run away." He raised an eyeridge. "A young lady should have better manners than to take advantage of a helpless old man like that. What are you gonna call the finished piece? 'Cardassian in captivity'?" She just laughed. 

During their conversations she had often asked him to sit for her, but he had always found an excuse. Maybe he was being foolish, though the thought of knowing how she saw him, _what_ she saw in him was a discomforting one. He wouldn't have refused if he didn't already suspect, but having proof made it real, tangible, something he had to deal with. 

Three weeks went by before Bashir appeared in front of his little habitat, body language unsure but determined. 

"I talked to Ziyal.", he said instead of a greeting. 

Garak nodded. 

"She thought it would be a good idea if I visited you.", the Doctor went on. 

"And do you think it's a good idea as well?", Garak asked. 

Bashir shrugged, arms linked behind his back "I don't know yet." 

"Mhm", Garak nodded yet again, knowing the Doctor needed to get it off his chest. 

But instead of the angry rant he expected, what he got was a small chuckle. "I feel a bit like Clarice Starling right now." 

"I'm sorry, Doctor, I'm not familiar with a person of that name.", Garak said a little confused. 

"It's from a popular book, 'The Silence of the Lambs'.", Bashir explained, "Clarice Starling is an FBI agent, something like a Security Chief, and she goes to interview a serial killer, it's a similar setup.", he gestured towards the cell. 

"Ah, charming.", Garak said dryly. 

"Remind me to bring you the book next time.", the Doctor smiled. 

He had said 'next time', interesting. 

"I will", Garak smiled back. 

For a moment neither of them knew what to say and they didn't make eye contact. 

Then Garak broke the silence. 

"I don't regret what I did, Doctor." 

Bashir nodded without meeting his eyes. "I suspected as much." 

"And yet you came?" 

"A year ago I wouldn't have." 

The admission brought back unwanted memories of the last time he had tried to destroy the Founders' planet, but had instead destroyed something else. Had it really been a year already? 

"So what changed?" 

Bashir shrugged. "Maybe I did. Maybe I learned not to expect more from people than what they are." 

That comment shouldn't have stung as much as it did. Sure, Garak had been the one to try and teach the Doctor over and over not to trust so easily and always expect the worst from everybody, but hearing Bashir say it back to him was... 

He thought he might've preferred angry shouting and a 'how could you Garak'. It hurt to hear that resignation, that loss of hope in him. 

"I didn't know you beamed down on the planet.", Garak blurted out before he could stop himself. 

"And would it have stopped you if you had known?" 

There was no need to answer, Bashir knew already that it wouldn't have made any difference. 

"You know, I did plan to die with all of you.", he wasn't really sure why he said it, he just knew he didn't want to lose the Doctor's respect. If that was gone, he would just be another charity-case, someone for Bashir to take pity on. During their friendship it had always been there, mutual respect, even a year ago. He didn't want to become someone who 'just was like that', Garak needed the Doctor to understand. 

"There was no secret escape-plan.", he added, feeling like a man drowning. 

He couldn't look at Bashir, so he fixed his gaze to the cell wall on his right side, waiting for a reaction. 

There was no immediate answer, but after a few seconds he saw from the corner of his eye that the form in front of his cell was... shaking? 

Garak turned his full gaze to him, was Bashir crying? 

"... Doctor?", he asked softly. 

The shaking intensified and then broke out of the Doctor. First it was a little giggle, which then quickly matured into a roaring laughter. 

Garak was utterly puzzled. 

"Sorry", Bashir pressed out between fits of laughter. "It's... it's just that you're being so... dramatic!", another burst of giggles shook him so hard he had to stoop down and put his hands on his knees. 

Garak just stared at him. It must be some kind of hysteria. And how was _he_ being dramatic? 

After a while Bashir calmed down and straightened up again, wiping a tear from his eye. 

"Doctor are you quite well?", Garak asked, still bewildered by this behaviour. 

"Yes", Bashir answered, running a hand through his hair, "it's just that... you needled me so much about my 'hero-complex', always trying to save everybody. And now you attempted to destroy a whole planet for the good of the whole Alpha Quadrant, knowing that you would die in the process. Becoming a martyr for the cause. You see the irony here?" 

Garak pursed his lips "Well...", then he stopped for a moment. "... I think you might have a point there." 

It _was_ quite ironic. 

Bashir grinned. "Maybe I should be glad you're apparently not as good a spy as you think, or you would've succeeded.", there was a playful twinkle in his eye. 

"Have you only come to taunt me?", Garak asked, not feeling half as offended as he acted. 

"No", the Doctor smiled, then got serious again. "You really thought you were doing the right thing, weren't you? I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse." 

"May I remind you, Doctor, that you have done questionable things before, which you thought were right while others opposed?" 

Bashir nodded. "That's why I can't hold it against you. It's not what I would've done, but... it is what it is, I guess. 

Garak smiled, calm relief washing over him. "I'm glad you came to that conclusion." 

"Talking to Ziyal helped, she's a very smart girl.", the Doctor said. "And talented. I saw her drawings of you." 

The expression on Bashir's face told Garak exactly what he had suspected. He had seen it too. 

Was there anything else in the Doctor's face? Something searching Garak's own expression for a hint on how he felt about it? 

No, Bashir looked as blank as a rock. Since when could he do that? Was that something he had learned from Garak or had he always been able to do it? 

"She is.", Garak answered for lack of a better reply. 

"So...", the Doctor said, appearing eager to change the subject, "have you heard about the Captain's plan to expose Chancellor Gowron as a Changeling?" 

Garak raised his eyeridges in surprise "The head of the Klingon Empire is a Changeling?" 

Bashir nodded. "When Odo was in the Great Link they tried to hide it from him, didn't he tell you?" 

"No", Garak said "but he hasn't been quite himself the last few weeks." 

"Yes, I know what you mean", the Doctor lowered his voice, "the body drastically changing like that can have some psychological consequences, I'm a bit worried he's sliding into a depression." 

Garak nodded "I think he feels less useful now that he can't shapeshift anymore." 

"That's why Captain Sisko asked him to come on the mission." 

"Yes, that might be good for him." 

"You two know that I'm in the next room and can hear everything you say?", Odo's voice rang through the door. 

Bashir flinched, looking embarrassed. 

"Apologies, constable", Garak called "in our defence, it came from a place of caring." 

A loud harrumph sounded from the next room. 

The Doctor and Garak exchanged a look and grinned. If it weren't for the force field between them, everything seemed as it had been for years. Him and Bashir having a chat, sharing a joke. Almost normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so weird how the show just never picks up on Garak being in a holding cell for SIX MONTHS ever again. It's neither mentioned nor shown anywhere and also nobody really reacts to him trying to blow up the Founders's planet AGAIN. I mean yes, he's a minor character, but still, that's six months! Half a season if you operate on the assumption that one season = one year. And the next episode he's in they're taking him to a conference on the occupation which is just a bit weird to me, I don't know.  
> Oh the joys of a fanfic author, working around this stuff^^ I'm just glad I found a way to make Julian see Garak's point of view and not be mad at him forever.


	20. Chapter 20

True to his word, the next time Bashir visited, he brought a copy of 'The Silence of the Lambs'. A curious title, given that it was supposed to be a crime novel. 

The Doctor assured him though, that the meaning behind it would become clear during the story. 

"I've just spent the morning turning the Captain, Miles and Odo back to their respective forms. Pity though, I thought the Klingon look suited Sisko quite well.", Bashir said, stretching his neck to illustrate the statement. 

"Ah, so they've returned from their mission?", Garak asked, "Successful I hope? The deputy on duty wouldn't tell me anyhing." 

"Yes, but the Changeling turned out to be General Martok instead of Gowron, seems like the Founders were misleading Odo." 

"Interesting.", Garak commented. "So does that mean there's peace with the Klingon Empire again?" 

"Not yet, but at least they're willing to talk." 

"Well, better than nothing.", Garak said. He was glad that he wasn't completely cut off from receiving news. 

"I agree." 

"So, Doctor, have you been able to find 'Familiar Night'?", Garak asked. 

"Yes, I found a copy", Bashir said, "but I have to admit I was a little surprised that you picked a book of poems." 

"Oh, really?" 

"Well, I mean...", for a moment the fresh-faced, awkward young Doctor from four years ago made an appearance, putting his foot in his mouth while trying to extricate himself from the verbal hole he had dug. It was adorable. 

"Not that you don't seem like someone who reads poetry! I just... you've never mentioned...", he stumbled through the sentence. 

Garak chuckled. "I concede that I read more prose than poetry. This particular book I haven't touched in years, but I remember it fondly. Did you enjoy it? I hoped it would be a welcome break from the repetitive epic for you." 

"I think I did.", Bashir smiled. He strolled closer to the force field separating them and sat down on the floor, in front of the left hand corner of the cell, settling in for one of their lengthy discussions. Garak joined him on his side, careful not to touch the barrier, arranging his legs in a tailor's seat. 

They were physically closer than their usual constellation in the replimat, where a table separated them. Here it was merely an invisible wall that crackled with electricity at irregular intervals. An almost poetic metaphor if one wanted to interpret it as that. 

"The fourth poem was interesting", the Doctor said "'Beauty incarnate' was the title I think." 

"Ah yes", Garak remembered, "' _Eyes of desert heat, captivating souls, bringer of destruction, death to give us all_ '" 

"Yes that's the one", Bashir nodded. "Is it meant to be read as a love poem?" 

"Well, that depends if you interpret the lusting after a person together with a few other people, also enchanted by them, as love." 

"Mhm, yeah that's what I got from it as well, I mean the title says as much. This person is so captivating and beautiful that they acquire a bunch of admirers, the author included, and they express their feelings rather violently." 

"Does that surprise you, Doctor? You know how Cardassian flirtation works.", Garak raised an eyeridge. 

An almost shy smile crossed Bashir's lips. "I know, but that's not why I asked. I think you could read this poem as a criticism on the State." 

Now Garak raised both eyeridges in surprise. "Doctor, this particular collection of poetry has been on the Cardassian school curriculum for decades!" 

"Well then maybe the government should give it another read, wouldn't want to turn school children into little revolutionaries.", Bashir's grin was wide and his eyes sparkled mischievously. 

They debated the Doctor's theory good-naturedly, and after a while Garak had to admit that he could see where Bashir was coming from. 

"If you put Cardassia in place of the person the author talks about, it tells a story about an all-consuming devotion to the State that will slowly destroy everybody. Irish poets on earth often did that, they anthropomorphized Ireland as a woman. On the surface the poem, or song, told a story of two lovers, and what was really going on was hidden underneath." 

"It's not a perfect metaphor, it doesn't match in a lot of places." 

"Of course, or the poet would've been found out immediately.", the Doctor grinned. 

"Well if you're going by that logic you could ascribe criticism of the State to virtually every piece of literature." 

Bashir disagreed and went over the particular lines that made him believe this poem really was a veiled critique. They went back and forth like that until there was a loud cough behind them. 

Odo was leaning in the doorframe. "Doctor. Garak.", he nodded as a greeting. "I'm afraid visiting hours are over." 

Bashir sighed, got up slowly and stretched after having spent the last hour on the floor. "I was so close to winning the argument.", he said jokingly to the constable. 

"I beg to differ, my dear Doctor.", Garak had gotten up as well, displaying a mocking facial expression. 

Bashir grinned. "Well, maybe I'll prepare a presentation with more evidence for next time." 

"If you really think that will change my mind, just go ahead.", Garak smiled. 

"Not really, but it might be fun. Well, then til next week, bye Garak.", he smiled and waved his hand a little. 

"You know where to find me", Garak said, irony lacing his voice. 

Bashir grinned, then turned around to go. "Constable", he nodded as he passed the door, and then he was gone. 

Odo strolled towards the cell, hands characteristically clasped behind his back. 

"Constable, how have you been?", Garak asked "I heard the mission was successful?" 

Odo nodded "Yes, it was, and I'm sure Doctor Bashir told you all about it." 

"He did", Garak said, "but he wasn't present, it would be nice to hear a first-hand account." 

"Neither I nor Doctor Bashir are technically supposed to share that kind of information with civilians, as he should be well aware.", the constable grumbled. 

"Odo", Garak spread his arms in front of himself "who in the universe should I tell? I'm in here for another five months." 

Odo harrumphed. "Still. You'll have to make do with the information you already have.", he said gruffly. Then he added "I might tell you after it is declassified." 

Garak sighed. "Oh well." 

There was a moment of quiet before the constable said "You and the Doctor seemed to have a lively discussion." 

It was an innocent enough remark, but Odo gave him a strange sort of look. 

"We were talking about literature, as per usual. I'm trying to get Ziyal more interested in classic Cardassian works as well, but at the moment she seems more taken by Bajoran books. No doubt thanks to Major Kira." 

"It's part of her heritage, isn't it?" 

"I suppose so", Garak sighed, "I just wish I could enjoy them more, Bajoran literature is so full of... faith." 

Odo gave a small chuckle at Garak's plight, then, with a nod of his head, went to his office. 

Garak was alone again in his grey cell. Grey of all colours. 

Was there a more soul-suckingly boring colour? It wasn't even a tinged grey, with brown or blue hues, no just plain black and white mixed together. Sometimes his brain warned him not to lean on the wall, or sit on the floor too long or his skin might merge with the colour until he became one with the tiny room. It was ridiculous. 

Trying to shake off the negative thoughts, he picked up the padd containing "The Silence of the Lambs". Maybe Hannibal Lecter's cell was more interesting. 

Ziyal came in the same week but on a different day. It made more sense that way, and also Odo was very strict about allowing only one visitor per day. He claimed he was even stretching rules by admitting two visiors per week. 

Again she brought her sketch pad and drew while they were talking. She said it helped her concentrate. 

Major Kira had taken her to the Bajoran temple on the promenade for a minor festivity. It had clearly left an impression on her, and she contemplated going for a regular service again. 

"It's an incredible atmosphere", she said, "so calm, but so filled with... meaning. I think I might enjoy going regularly, I just don't know if it's right to do so when I'm not sure I believe in the Prophets." 

"Well my dear, that is for you to find out. I'm sure Major Kira wouldn't mind giving you an introduction into her religion, after that you can decide." 

She looked up from the paper. "I'm surprised you would say that, I thought you would argue against religion and brush it off as nonsense." 

Normally Garak would've done. He didn't believe in Prophets or Gods, he had seen too much to trust in any kind of underlying order of the universe. Chaos, that was what he believed in, chaos all around, unless people _built_ order, and that was always victim to corruption, as all power was. 

He smiled "You have to find your own way, you're half Bajoran after all." 

Where was that coming from? Maybe he had been gone from Cardassia for too long. Or maybe it was all this Human and Bajoran literature he was reading all day. 

Ziyal furrowed her brow ridges. "Are you quite well?" 

Garak sighed dramatically. "I don't know, maybe this cell is getting to me, it's so... dull." 

She frowned, then slowly began to smile. "I might be able to do something about that." 

And that she certainly did. When she arrived the next week, two days before her regular visiting time, Garak could hear her arguing with Odo in the front room. 

As she finally entered the big room that housed all the cells, she carried a large tube of rolled-up paper under her arm and a triumphant smile. The constable was trailing behind her. 

"Hello Garak", she chirped, "I have a surprise for you, and constable Odo has kindly agreed to let me install it." 

Odo didn't look like he had volunteered, but under her smiling gaze he went to the mechanism on the wall that controlled the force field of Garak's cell. He lowered it and Ziyal stepped in, then it was raised again. 

Carefully she unrolled the paper and gave it to Garak. "Hold that for a moment please." 

He did as he was told. Then she extricated some sort of plasticine from a pocket and motioned for him to hand her the paper again. 

"Tell me if it's straight.", she requested as she proceeded to hang the sheet on the back wall of the cell. 

When they had figured out the position, she stepped back and turned to him with a big grin. "What do you think? A spot of colour in all this grey." 

It was a still-life painting of various flowers, some Cardassian, some Bajoran, and in the middle Edosian Orchids. They were spilling out of a toppled-over vase onto a dark green surface, arranged more like a fabric- or wallpaper-pattern. The colours were happy and vibrant. 

For a while Garak didn't say anything, he just took the picture in. 

Ziyal was getting nervous. "Of course it would've been nicer with a frame, but I didn't think hammering nails in the wall of a cell was allowed." 

Odo made an affirmative noise. 

"It is wonderful, my dear.", Garak said, a genuine smile spreading across his face and not taking his eyes off the painting. There was so much to look at, so much brightness. "Thank you." 

Ziyal beamed. 

Garak held up his hand and she pressed her palm against it. 

"Alright", the constable piped up "you've hung up the picture, but for the rest of your visit you need to come out of the cell." 

He pressed the button and Ziyal stepped through reluctantly, then he left them alone. 

She elaborated on how she had worked on the picture, the ideas behind it and what had inspired her. Flowers were a theme in her work, as Garak had noticed before. Apparently she remembered his stories of working as a gardener in the Embassy, and that he had specialized in Edosian Orchids. She had painted them just right, capturing the delicacy and soft colour-shifts. 

They switched to different topics eventually, but when she left, his eyes and mind returned to the painting. He had been cut off from everything nice for weeks now. So he just stared, following every brushstroke and line. 

That night he dreamed of a meadow, richly speckled with flowers of all kinds. Seemingly endless, stretching towards the horizon, a soft breeze gently swaying the stalks. 

Doctor Bashir was nice about the painting. 

He smiled, saying it was very kind of Ziyal to do that and she had indeed created a fine piece of art. He went through all the motions, but there was something dishonest about his demeanour. 

When Garak changed the topic to "The Silence of the Lambs", which he had finished, Bashir seemed relieved. He grinned a little too forced for it to be playful before he requested "Can you say 'I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti' for me?" 

But Garak went along, raising one eyeridge in mock disgust. "A cannibal named Hannibal? Really Doctor? It _rhymes_." 

Bashir laughed and the strange tension visibly left his body. 

"I know, I know", he said, still grinning. "It's not exactly high-brow literature, but I think it's a good read." 

"Debatable", Garak commented, "though it posed a quite interesting look into law-enforcement on earth in the 20th century, I will give you that." 

"Is that all you took from it? What about the characters?" 

And so began their debate, the old song and dance they had performed so many times before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm definitely not a poet and I apologize for the poor attempt XD
> 
> I got the idea of the painting from the "Enigma Tales" book by Una McCormack, which I probably shouldn't have read before "A Stitch in Time", whoops^^ It's not the same painting, more of an earlier version, but I think I will feature that painting as well later on.
> 
> Also, yay Hannibal^^ I'm just finding sneaky ways to mention my other fandoms :)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episodes referenced are "Looking for par'Mach in All the Wrong Places", "...Nor the Battle to the Strong" and "Let He Who is Without Sin..."

"Have you ever pictured Quark doing it with a Klingon woman?" 

"Good afternoon to you too, Doctor. No, I can't say I ever have, but thank you for this mental image anyway. I might have to hit my head against the wall several times to lose it again though, since the Federation doesn't provide alcohol to its prisoners." 

"Sorry", Bashir pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. "but I just had the privilege to treat the aftermath of... that. And a compound fracture of the right radius, two fractured ribs, torn ligaments, strained tendons, numerous contusions, bruises and scratches just seem a little... excessive." 

Garak raised both eyeridges. "Hmm yes, I can see why that would disturb you." 

"And you won't believe who came limping in after them." 

Garak inclined his head for the Doctor to go on. 

"Jadzia seems to have succeeded in her conquest." 

"Oh, so commander Worf finally got the hint?" 

Bashir nodded. "I don't need that particular image either, but I guess I'm happy for her." 

"I'm guessing Quark might be happy as well. I don't think anyone bet that it would take Lieutenant Dax such a long time.", Garak said. 

"Well, nobody knew to factor Worf in as an outlier. Usually people clue in on Jadzia's advances a lot quicker." 

"True, true.", Garak nodded. "So what else has been happening? Some new daring adventures?" 

The Doctor grinned "Poor Garak, you must be so bored in here." 

"Terribly.", Garak confirmed. 

"Well, let me think... I've made a lot of progress with the tests on the Lurian fever-cough, I've managed to isolate the virus and now I can try to split it.", he elaborated on that for a time while Garak nodded politely and threw in an "oh" or "ah" for good measure. 

Bashir sometimes lacked the social awareness that his work and experiments were not all that interesting to people not working in the medical field. But he was so enthusiastic that it was hard to stop him once he got going. Garak also secretly enjoyed seeing him like that, all shiny eyes, smile and active hands. While he didn't understand a lot about the content, he could appreciate the genuine enthusiasm and let his mind wander. 

"... oh and Jake Sisko has asked to write a profile on me for a Journal, he'll accompany me to a medical conference next week.", the Doctor concluded his monologue. 

"Interesting", Garak commented, "I'm sure that will be very exciting for young Sisko." 

That poor boy was in for a lot of boredom. Garak was pretty sure Jake lacked the appreciation for Bashir's enthusiasm, or the medical knowledge to understand what was being said. 

But as it turned out Garak had been thoroughly wrong about the boredom. 

When Bashir returned, he told him about the detour he and Jake had made to Ajilon Prime, which had been under attack by the Klingons. 

Young Sisko's article made for an interesting read once visiting hours were over. Garak had never made a secret of his disdain for Starfleet's obsession with heroism, and hearing some of his criticism echoed in the writing of a Federation citizen felt like a breath of fresh air. 

Something in him decided he wouldn't bring up the article for discussion the next time the Doctor came visiting though. Somehow the idea didn't sit right with Garak, as the subject matter wasn't something as removed from their own lives as the usual novels were. Bashir seemed to share the feeling, since he didn't bring it up either. 

Weeks began to blur into each other, sometimes Garak couldn't even tell the day of the week. Still Ziyal and the Doctor visited him. With the gossip they shared, and the little bits Garak managed to snatch from Odo, he had a good idea of what was going on on the Station. Though it wasn't the same as actually witnessing it. 

He had been staring at Ziyal's picture for so long now, he could recreate it perfectly in front of his mind's eye, every little detail. 

And one day, to his surprise, he realized that he had been in the cell for a little over four months. That meant his sentence was more than half over. In about two months he was free again. Well, as free as he could be in exile. 

"The worst part is", he told both Ziyal and Bashir separately, "that I'm now actually looking forward to working as a tailor again." 

Both laughed. 

And it was true, Garak longed to create something with his hands again. He _was_ a very good tailor after all. 

Both conversations went similarly as in that both Ziyal and Bashir promised they would help Garak set up his shop again, which he gladly accepted. But from there on out they diverged. 

With Ziyal he stayed on the topic and they talked about what he could create, how the fashion had slightly changed even in those few months. 

With Bashir there was a pause. Then the Doctor said "I won't be able to visit next week, I'm going to Risa for a few days. With Leeta. And Worf, Jadzia and Quark." 

"Ah" 

It shouldn't be surprising that Bashir would go on holiday with his girlfriend, but somehow Garak had managed to forget her existence over the past months. Well, not forget, but... tune out. It wasn't like the Doctor talked about her a lot. Or even at all. At least to him. 

"And why, if I may ask", Garak said "are Commander Dax, Commander Worf and Quark accompanying you?" 

"Well, Jadzia told me that she and Worf wanted to go to Risa, and I had shoreleave coming up, so I thought it was a good idea, and me and Leeta could go as well, so we'd be able to share a runabout.", Bashir answered. "It came up at just the right time for us", he added with an awkward kind of look. 

Garak felt an unplaceable dread rise in his stomach. To calm down he asked "And where exactly does Quark fit into this merry group?" 

The Doctor rolled his eyes "He wouldn't give Leeta time off unless he could come with us, you know Quark." 

"Indeed I do.", Garak smirked. "In the name of a restful vacation, I hope you don't see much of him." 

Bashir grinned "I doubt our paths will cross much, apart from the journey." 

In an attempt to change the topic from what exactly it was Bashir hoped to do on Risa, but not to be too obvious, Garak asked "So how exactly did Commander Dax manage to convince Worf to go to a pleasure planet?" 

"I'm sure she has her ways", the Doctor still grinned "if both of their frequent visits to the infirmary are any indicator." 

"Ah, young love", Garak commented with a sly smile. 

For a second Bashir looked uncomfortable, but then the grin returned and he nodded. "Klingon love." 

When the Doctor had left, Garak took a deep breath and sat down on his cot. 

Maybe he was overreacting. No, _probably_ he was overreacting. But... 

_"It came up at just the right time for us"_

Bashir had been more awkward than usual. Why else would the Doctor be nervous about telling him of a planned vacation? If it wasn't about telling an ex-lover that he wanted to ask his current lover to marry him. It had to mean that. 

Though it was strange that Leeta never appeared to be a topic in their conversations. The months before his imprisonment, Garak hadn't seen them together a lot. He had seen Bashir playing darts or going to the holosuites with Chief O'Brien more. 

But then again there was a lot they didn't talk about. A weekly lunch or visit wasn't much to go on. What did he really know about the Doctor's daily life? Garak was just an hour-shaped part of literature-discussion in a week filled with work and friends. 

What right did he even have to be upset? And why was knowing that Bashir intended to marry Leeta worse than them being together in the first place? 

Garak tried to tell himself he was being ridiculous, but as usual it wasn't working. Sometimes Tain's voice ghosted through his brain, mocking him, telling him he had been careless, had let it go on for too long. 

He wasn't wrong. Garak had indulged his craving for company too much, so now he had to bear the consequences. 

Another unbidden voice whispered in his ear. As soon as he was out of this cell he could see to it that Leeta left the station. Nothing violent, just some little rumors. She wouldn't be the first to cheat on a fiancé, or take some liberties with the latinum at the dabo table. It would be hardly any effort... 

No. 

If he liked it or not, Deep Space Nine was his home for the foreseeable future, and starting to plant seeds like that would only fall back on him in the long run. 

He was a little surprised by how quickly he was able to brush off this instinct for deceit that had been cultivated almost his entire life. 

Maybe he had changed more than he cared to admit. 

Though not as much that the jealousy and bitterness didn't rage inside of him. His mood over the next few days was appalling. He managed to even out-grump Odo. 

Garak just couldn't shake off the unbidden images. Bashir and Leeta at the beach, in horrible outfits no doubt, gazing into each other's eyes like a pair of imbeciles. Talking about their future, how many children they would have in their perfect married life. And later going back to the hotel to fuck their brains out. This mental image made him even more nauseous than the one of Quark and a Klingon woman. 

All while he was trapped in this cell like an animal. There was nothing much to take his mind off it. The books didn't grab his attention enough, and his mind started to wander again after a short while. He couldn't even talk out loud to tell himself how much of a child he was acting. 

_"It came up at just the right time for us"_

Had Bashir just said that without any meaning behind it? But then why had his body language clearly indicated that this wasn't just a normal holiday? Garak was _good_ at reading people, so why had his skill picked this exact moment to leave him? 

Even though he tried to pull himself together, Ziyal noticed his foul mood. Of course he assured her that everything was fine and he'd just had a bad dream that night. But she still seemed concerned, probably thinking that captivity was finally getting to him. He didn't want her to worry, with Dukat as a father she already had enough on her plate. So that was another thing Garak could feel guilty about. 

Odo had a few comments for him as well, teasing and probing. By now he had probably pieced together that Garak's mood coincided neatly with the vacation of the station's CMO, he wasn't stupid. And what that meant was hard to miss. 

Though Garak wasn't concerned that the constable would tell anyone. Odo wasn't the type to gossip, at least not about matters like this. As well he should be. He was the one who had been pining after Major Kira for years, after all. 

Almost funny how long a day could stretch when one was miserable, as opposed to time flying by when happy. Now Garak _really_ wished he could work in his shop again. Hem something, sew on a button, anything. It would at least occupy his hands and maybe calm his mind, that was going round in circles, a bit. 

Sleep wasn't easy to come by and when he finally managed to doze off, his dreams were haunted by perfect sandy white beaches at sundown. The mocking laughter of happy couples ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help, I'm trapped in a tired romcom cliché ^^
> 
> Sorry for Garak angsting around again. I tried to make it at least entertaining and suitably dramatic, cause we all know what really happens on Risa and that he has nothing to worry about ;)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode referenced is "Let He Who is Without Sin..."

When the day that Bashir was set to visit again came round, Garak's stomach was giving him trouble right from the point he woke up. He didn't finish breakfast, and what little he had eaten gurgled ominously in his bowels. 

How ridiculous that he worked himself up over something like this. Sentiment really was a dangerous thing. 

What he did to pass the time until the Doctor arrived he couldn't remember, but with every minute that crawled past, Garak grew more anxious. 

Finally he heard Bashir's muffled voice in the front room, greeting Odo cheerfully. Of course he would be cheerful. 

When the Doctor entered, he looked the very picture of relaxed. His skin almost glowed, eyes shining and he wore a big, almost goofy grin. 

"Hello Garak!", he said in the same cheerful tone that he had used to greet Odo. 

Garak attempted a smile. "Hello Doctor, I take it your vacation was a restful one?" 

"Oh yes, you could say that." 

"I'm glad to hear it." 

Inwardly Garak was steeling himself for the big announcement that was sure to come now. 

"Thanks", Bashir said, still smiling, "anything new with you?" 

Garak raised an eyeridge. "Well, since I am still in here it is probably safe to assume that, no, there's nothing new with me, Doctor.", it came out a tad catty, but Garak was getting irritated. Couldn't Bashir just get it over with? "Is there anything new YOU would like to talk about?", he prompted. 

"Well, if you're asking like that...", the Doctor's demeanour changed a little. "I wanted to talk to you about something." 

Garak's heart pounded and his voice was hoarse when he asked, "Yes?" 

"I'm... not going to come visit you anymore." 

It took Garak some seconds to grasp what Bashir had just said. 

"...what?" 

"Well you see, I have a lot of preparation to do..." 

When the Doctor didn't continue the sentence, Garak spoke up again. 

"Would you kindly elaborate on that? Prepare for what?" 

"For my new family of course!" 

"...Family?!", Garak asked, his head feeling sort of like someone had wrapped his brain in Bolian cotton. 

"Of course", Bashir answered, and towards the front room he called "Honey, you can come in now." 

Leeta walked through the door, an equally broad grin on her face, and a very noticeable baby bump. She grabbed the Doctor's hand and he slung an arm around her waist. 

There was a frankly enormous diamond ring on her finger. 

"Oh poor Elim", she chirped, a not quite empathetic expression on her face. "Did you really think he would choose you? After all you did? You really must be losing your touch. And he only knows a fraction about everything you did in the Order, doesn't he? What would he say about all the rest?" 

Apparently not having heard any of that, Bashir said "Let's go darling, this place is depressing,", completely ignoring Garak. 

"Sure, sugar", she cooed and rubbed her nose against the Doctor's while he smiled like an idiot. 

They turned around and walked away, the room strangely stretching into an endless corridor. Garak wanted to call after them but nothing came out of his mouth. The walls of his cell started warping, shrinking at peculiar angles around him, nearer and nearer. His heart pounded. Then the light dimmed down, flickered, until suddenly it was pitch black all around him. 

Garak woke with a start, panting heavily. He sat up on the little cot, looking around frantically until he remembered where he was. 

A dream. 

It was still dark, the Station's night illumination-program ran the overhead lights on minimal power. It wasn't pitch black, he could see the contours of objects, like he would on a moonlit night on Cardassia. 

He could hear faint snoring. That would be the inhabitant of the cell next to him, who Odo had brought in late after making trouble in Quark's bar. 

Garak took a deep breath. What a ridiculous dream. As nightmares went, he'd had far worse. Ones he'd woken up from, crying or screaming, or both. But this one made him just as uneasy after waking up. Like a foul aftertaste in his mouth. 

Nevertheless he was disappointed in the lack of creativity his subconscious showed. If he had read this dream-sequence in a book, he would've rolled his eyes at the tired cliché. 

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Both at Bashir and himself. 

Why did he still let himself get strung along? All those little smiles and flirtatious looks, and he had definitely not imagined their lunch in the holosuite, or better the angry fuck, during which the Doctor had already been in a relationship with Leeta. 

What had changed in the months after that? 

Garak was positively fuming that he couldn't confront Bashir about any of this while he was still in this damned cell. 

Hours passed and the night illumination changed to the day program. Sleep was a far-off dream in Garak's state of mind. So when breakfast-time rolled around, dark rings had formed under his eyes. 

Just as in his dream, he didn't have much of an appetite, only finishing half of his meal. 

Odo, who had come to release the Andorian in the cell next to Garak's, gave him a quizzical brow. 

"You look tired." 

"Thank you for noticing, constable", Garak said, a touch annoyed "I didn't sleep very well." 

"Hmm", Odo made an acknowledging noise, and maybe that had been a little smirk Garak spied. 

He tried to read, but couldn't concentrate on the story. Then he stared at Ziyal's painting in an attempt to calm down, but nothing could distract him from the fact that Bashir was due to visit today. 

Since his brain apparently refused to let go of this fixation, he used the time to analyse his dream. There wasn't a lot to go on that wasn't glaringly obvious. Of course he didn't want to lose Bashir, that much was clear as day. 

But when he arrived at the question why his subconscious had picked a pregnant Leeta, pregnant with the Doctor's child, to be threatened by, he decided to keep that particular pandora's box firmly locked. That was a mystery for another time, probably tightly interwoven with Cardassian family values and his own upbringing as an illegitimate child. 

Garak sighed and grabbed the padd again, this way it would at least look like he was reading. 

When his exhausted brain had almost lulled him to sleep again, head sunk against the wall, first Odo's, then Bashir's voice startled him into wakefulness. Thankfully the padd was still in his hand. 

As the Doctor came through the door, Garak rose casually, as if Bashir had just interrupted him. 

"Hello Doctor", he greeted "how was your vacation?", he phrased it differently on purpose. 

"Hello Garak", Bashir smiled, looking as well-rested as his dream-counterpart, "It was a little more... exciting than I had planned." 

If that meant baby-news, Garak thought, he would start screaming and never stop. And then change profession to become a fortune-teller. 

"Oh? How exactly?", he managed to ask with a probably very artificial smile plastered on his face. 

Bashir proceeded to tell him of Mr Worf's disapproval of Risa, and the group of people he had helped to manipulate the weather-grid that kept the planet as lovely as it was. 

Garak listened to the whole tale with no interest whatsoever but managed to nod and comment in the appropriate places. 

When the Doctor had finished, he looked at Garak and frowned. "Are you alright? You seem a little tense." 

"Oh it's nothing", Garak dismissed, "I just didn't sleep very well. My cell-neighbour tonight had a regrettable tendency to snore." 

"I'm sorry about that", Bashir smiled sympathetically, "but it's not that long now and you'll be out of here again." 

Garak inclined his head in acknowledgement and forced a smile. 

"So... how are things with the lovely Leeta?" 

He was probably giving away his game, but Garak just couldn't stay in smalltalk hell anymore. 

"Well now that you ask..." 

There was the awkwardness again. Garak braced himself for the announcement, tried to gather all his self control to be able to congratulate him. 

"Leeta and I broke up." 

Garak opened his mouth and closed it again when he realized that the sentence he had already preformed didn't match the occasion. 

"Oh", he said instead. 

"Yeah. We performed the rite of separation, it's a Bajoran custom where the couple celebrates the good times they had in the relationship before they part ways. It's a nice way to break up, really. The least awful breakup I've ever had." 

Garak caught that slight but didn't comment on it. Instead he asked "Least awful? So it wasn't all civil?" 

"No, no, it was. It really was very nice. Up until the point where she told me she's had feelings for another man in the last few months." 

Garak didn't comment on the irony either. 

"Hmm, do you know who?" 

Bashir gave him a pitiful look. 

"...It's Rom." 

Suddenly all the worry, anger and bitterness of the last few days fell off Garak's shoulders and a bubbling laugh was fighting its way out of his throat. Just the image of it all made him roar. 

Through the tears in his eyes he saw Bashir's half annoyed, half concerned face, and that just made him laugh even harder. He felt almost hysterical but he couldn't stop himself. 

And it served the Doctor just right after what he had put Garak through. 

When, after a while, Garak had calmed down, Bashir asked "Are you done laughing at my misery now?" 

He looked a little miffed with his arms folded in front of him and the little frown, but not seriously angry. 

Garak just nodded, he didn't trust himself to speak yet without giggling. 

"Nice to know that was at least entertaining for _someone_.", the Doctor said, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I've never seen you laugh like that before." 

"Well, I've never heard of someone being cast aside for Rom before.", Garak managed the sentence without falling back into a laughing fit, but he still grinned broadly. 

Bashir pouted. "Great, I'm a walking joke." 

"I'm sorry Doctor, I didn't mean to be cruel.", Garak said, still grinning. 

"You've told better lies." 

"Indeed." 

They smiled at eachother. 

Not another word was spoken of Leeta or Rom for the remainder of Bashir's visiting time. 

When it was Ziyal's turn, she was surprised to find Garak in a much better mood, even cheerful. 

"What happened?", she asked baffled, "last week you seemed so cranky." 

"I wasn't cranky, my dear", Garak tried to defend himself, "I was maybe a little... irritated." 

"Alright, irritated, so what changed?" 

"Oh, I think I just got reminded not to assume the worst and instead look on the bright side every once in a while. Even though it sounds like a tired platitude there is some truth to it." 

Ziyal looked confused but smiled and nodded anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, dream sequences are another tired trope, but see, I had Garak comment on what a cliché it is, so that makes it actually clever, right? Right?? >.<


	23. Chapter 23

Finally the day came. 

When Garak woke in the morning, it felt quite surreal that he would be leaving the holding cell for the first time in six months. He would be able to walk along the promenade again, sit down for a meal at the replimat and sleep in his own quarters. 

It was still exile, but after months of prison he found he had a much more cheerful attitude towards it. 

Around noon Odo appeared in front of his cell. 

"Well Garak, seems like I have to let you go." 

"I'm sure my constant company will be a great loss." 

The constable gave a gruff laugh and keyed in the code for the force field. 

A little hesitant, Garak stepped through, part of him fearing he would get zapped. But nothing happened. He was free. 

Outside, to his surprise, he found Ziyal and Bashir waiting for him. They greeted him warmly and Garak tried his best to hide how genuinely touched he felt. 

"Before you enter your normal life again, we'd like to kidnap you for a little surprise.", Ziyal announced. 

"Meet us at Quark's in an hour.", the Doctor added. 

Garak couldn't think of a reason to object, so he didn't. 

But first he wanted a long shower in his own quarters and a change of clothes. 

His quarters were as he had left them, just a small amount of dust indicated that they hadn't been lived in for several months. He would deal with that later. 

Carefully he set down the padds and Ziyal's painting, which he had taken with him. He would need to find a nice spot to hang it. But before that it needed a frame. 

The illumination-program in his rooms was a blessing to his eyes and he even turned it a little lower. Before he stepped into the shower he turned the heating several degrees up. After no break from the chilly station for months, he needed a little more warmth. 

The shower was nice and Garak felt the filth of several months of prison wash away. Which was a silly notion, he'd had regular access to a shower during the six months of course, but the feeling was more symbolic than rational. 

Though getting to wear his own clothes was actually new again. What a relief to be out of that awful jumpsuit. He was pleased to notice that his pants fit a little more loosely, so maybe there was at least one upside to this whole thing. 

When Garak entered Quark's bar, Bashir and Ziyal were already waiting. Ziyal was carrying a basket on her arm and the Doctor wasn't in his uniform but instead wearing casual pants and a loose fitting top in colours that weren't actually too horrible. 

Quark greeted him as well, in his usual slimy manner, but today Garak was glad for every person he saw. 

Bashir and Ziyal led him to the holosuites, and upon entering he was confronted with a green landscape, stretching towards the horizon. They were apparently situated on a grassy hill, overlooking a valley with some mountains framing it in the distance. It was a sunny day and just the right temperature for a Cardassian. 

"We thought you might enjoy a little walk after being in that cell for so long.", Ziyal said, gesturing towards the trail in front of them. "And a picnic.", she smiled. 

So that was what the basket was for. 

"My dear, that is a lovely surprise, I thank both of you.", Garak said genuinely. 

Ziyal was beaming and Bashir smiled as well. 

So they set off through the beautiful landscape, strolling at a leisurely pace and pointing out landmarks. 

Often the Doctor seemed to trail behind, leaving Garak and Ziyal to walk beside eachother and keep conversation. 

When they had found a nice spot in the shade of a large tree, a kind Garak wasn't familiar with, Ziyal produced a big blanket from the basket and spread it on the grass. 

She had brought all kinds of Cardassian food with an almost obscene amount of yamok sauce, and also some Bajoran dishes. Lastly she extricated a small Tarkalean chocolate cake. 

Garak couldn't remember when he had told her that this was his favourite dessert, but he was glad that he had apparently done it. 

They tucked in, arranging themselves in a loose circle on the blanket, the food in the middle. Conversation flowed, mostly concerning the goings-on on the station, ranging from the current political situation they found themselves in, to gossip. It was a relaxed atmosphere during which Garak almost forgot that he had spent the last six months in a holding cell. He existed just in the moment, enjoying a meal with friends on a sunny day. 

"Oh look!", Ziyal exclaimed suddenly and pointed further down the meadow. 

There were a few small furry creatures with long ears playing in the grass. 

Bashir grinned "Those are rabbits, you can go and pet them, they're not dangerous." 

"Won't they run away?" 

"No, the programme makes them friendly, they're not afraid." 

Ziyal didn't need any more encouragement than that and was up in a heartbeat. It didn't take long before she had several of these rabbits in her lap, carefully stroking their fur. 

Garak smiled "Am I right in thinking that this landscape is an Earth one, Doctor?" 

"Yes it is", Bashir said "though I raised the temperature a little." 

"Very considerate, thank you." 

The Doctor smiled "I couldn't find a Cardassian landscape, so at first I tried to make one similar enough, but then I thought if it's not quite right you wouldn't like it. Better to take something entirely different." 

Garak nodded "I think your hunch was right, and even if it had been a Cardassian programme, it still wouldn't compare to the real thing." 

"I thought you'd say that.", Bashir grinned. 

"I'm enjoying myself very much, it's a nice idea you've come up with." 

"Oh you really have to thank Ziyal for that, she came up with the plan, I only chose the programme." 

Garak felt his heart sink a little. 

The Doctor looked to where Ziyal was still sitting out of earshot. 

"She cares a great deal about you." 

Garak didn't know what sort of reply Bashir was looking for, his face didn't give anything away. After a few moments of thought he settled on "I know." 

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something but got interrupted by the distinct noise of a communicator. Bashir's brow furrowed and he dug the small device out of his pocket. 

"Jabara to Doctor Bashir." 

"Bashir here. What is it? I said not to disturb me." 

"I'm sorry Doctor", nurse Jabara did indeed sound very apologetic " but there's an emergency with the coma patient, the Tellarite, his blood pressure is falling rapidly, I think the fourth chamber of his heart that's connected to the liver is failing. And Doctor Rual is visiting his family on Bajor..." 

Bashir sighed "I'll be right there.", he got up. "I'm so sorry Garak, I...", but Garak interrupted him. 

"Don't worry Doctor, I understand.", he gave him a smile. 

Bashir looked unsure for a moment, like he wanted to say something, but then he bit his lip, nodded at Garak and turned around. 

"Computer, exit." 

The archway appeared, the Doctor stepped through and it disappeared again. 

Ziyal came over "Where did Doctor Bashir go?" 

"There is a medical emergency the Doctor has to attend to." 

"Oh, what a shame.", she sat down on the blanket beside him. 

For a while they both enjoyed the view quietly. 

Garak felt just the tiniest bit uncomfortable now that he and Ziyal were alone, without a barrier. He knew she had feelings for him, though how strong he couldn't tell. Maybe it was just idolisation, but he didn't want to encourage any of it. 

He cared a great deal for the young girl, however his feelings remained firmly in a state of friendship and occasional fatherly nature. 

She hadn't yet said or done anything about it, and perhaps she never would. 

"This is a really nice programme", Ziyal said, "I might ask to borrow it from Doctor Bashir sometime." 

"It is", Garak agreed "I'm sure he'll be happy to lend it to you." 

"I hope so, he took a lot of care to choose it. He looked everywhere for a Cardassian programme, but they're hard to come by here, even for Quark. When he couldn't find one, he contacted an old friend who's a holoprogrammer on earth I believe." 

"Oh, how long have you two been planning this surprise then?" 

"A few weeks", she smiled "Doctor Bashir was also the one who suggested the Tarkalean chocolate cake. He said you told him once it was your favourite." 

"I did", Garak said, clearly remembering the conversation. His stomach fluttered a little at the thought that Bashir had played a more active part in this than he had admitted. 

But why hadn't he told him? Doctor Julian Bashir was usually not the type for false modesty. 

They stayed a little while longer, talking about this and that, before they ended the programme and exited the holosuite. 

Ziyal left with the promise to come by his shop the next day to help getting everything ready for opening. 

Garak was looking forward to working in his shop again, something he'd never thought he would ever experience. But at the same time he dreaded it. Would his usual customers come back? Or did nobody want to buy from a convicted criminal? 

On the other hand, the rumors about him being a spy had never deterred most people. 

Well, he'd get to see it soon enough. Right now he just wanted a good long slumber in his own bed. 

As she had said, Ziyal appeared in Garak's shop about an hour after he had arrived. 

There was some dust on the displays, and of course most of the pieces were hopelessly out of fashion. Not to mention out of season as well. 

Together they collected everything but very basic things like simple shirts, pants and skirts that were timeless, and put it in a pile. Garak could probably sell them at a discount. 

Not a lot was left, but they worked to arrange it in the most appealing way. They were about halfway done with that task at noon, so they decided to have lunch. 

On their way out they almost ran into Bashir. 

"Hello Doctor.", Garak greeted. 

"Hello Garak. Ziyal.", he nodded to both of them. "I came to help with the shop, are you done already?" 

"Not yet", Ziyal said "we are just taking a break." 

"Would you care to join us for lunch?", Garak asked. 

"Sounds good", Bashir smiled. 

So their little group made its way to the Replimat. 

"I've taken the afternoon off", the Doctor said. 

"It's very generous of you to offer your help, Doctor, thank you.", Garak said. 

Bashir waved it aside. "After yesterday's emergency it'll be a welcome change." 

"Oh? What happened?", Ziyal asked. 

"Well, there's a Tellarite in a medically induced coma, due to severe inner injuries, and yesterday his fourth heart chamber suddenly malfunctioned. Since this is connected to his liver we needed to operate immediately and close the tear that caused the malfunction. What I didn't see coming was that quite a lot of blood had pooled inside the chamber, and due to the rest of the heart still pumping, pressure had built up. So when I cut into it, there was sort of an... explosion and blood everywhere." 

Ziyal swallowed and nodded silently. 

"But that's not even the worst part", the Doctor went on, "when I tried to close up the tear, I noticed an unusual bump on the liver, right next to the heart. And when I scanned it, it turned out to be a tumor that the initial full body scan apparently hadn't picked up on. So I moved to take it out and it was MASSIVE! I'd never seen something like it before, and the colour..." 

Bashir continued in this manner, accompanying his tale with lively hand gestures. 

Garak noticed Ziyal growing paler and paler, poking her food around the plate. He couldn't bite back an amused smirk, the Doctor's stories from the infirmary weren't ideal for a weak stomach. 

"Doctor", Garak interrupted "maybe another topic of discussion would be more... appropriate for a meal?" 

Bashir stopped, and then realization hit. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I tend to forget that not everyone is used to hearing about surgery all the time." 

Ziyal gave Garak a grateful look. 

They turned to more pleasant themes and, once they had finished their food, returned to Garak's shop. 

With three sets of hands the rest of the displays were quickly arranged to Garak's satisfaction. Then the focus shifted to the newest fashion trends and what kind of clothes Garak should make. He led this conversation mainly with Ziyal, Bashir had luckily accepted that his personal taste in attire was questionable at best and mostly contrary to popular opinion. Though he offered an amusing comment here and there. 

Garak would've liked to talk to the Doctor alone for a few minutes, but both him and Ziyal left at the same time when the work was done. 

In preparation for the next day, Garak stayed a while longer in the shop and started on a few smaller garments. It really did feel nice to work with his hands again. He had half expected that his brain had romanticized the act of sewing out of sheer boredom during his time in the cell. Though he was sure the novelty would soon wear off again. 

He let his mind wander during the repetitive work and, unbeknownst to him, a small smile formed on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All of the medical stuff mentioned in this chapter (or really anywhere in this fic) is complete bullshit made up by me^^
> 
> Finally Garak is freeeeeeee again, free to do some mischief :3


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "Things past"

It took a while until the message that Garak's tailor shop was open again, reached every last corner of the station, but business wasn't bad. 

On the first day, Mrs O'Brien came by with quite a pile of children's clothes that needed mending and a Bajoran uniform to be let out, presumably belonging to Major Kira. She seemed relieved that Garak's shop was open again and they had a nice little chat. Apparently it wouldn't take long now until the newest O'Brien would be born. 

Over the next few days, Ziyal came by now and then to chat or just to watch him work quietly. 

Then his usual weekly lunch-meeting with the Doctor rolled round. 

"It's nice to finally meet at the replimat again.", Garak commented. 

Bashir nodded. "Yes it is, feels a bit more private. Did I imagine it or did Odo sometimes listen to our conversations?" 

"No, I've thought the same thing. The constable might deny being interested in gossip, but my experience shows him to be much more nosy than one would think." 

The Doctor chuckled. "So how was your first week of freedom?" 

"More normal than I would've thought, everyday life caught up with me quite seamlessly.", Garak said truthfully. 

"Well then your day so far was probably more enjoyable than mine. We just had a board meeting and Captain Sisko just kept going on and on about the conference he has to attend in a few days on Bajor." 

"A conference on Bajor?" 

"Yes, it's about the occupation, and he talked about how disappointing it was not to have a Cardassian present, for ten minutes solid. I think he's just angry he can't refuse to go because he's the Emissary.", the Doctor sighed. 

"There is no Cardassian present?", Garak asked "But every discussion needs someone to provide counter-arguments. Where is the logic in a conference without opposing views?" 

"What counter-arguments are there?", Bashir asked, "the Bajorans were oppressed, a lot of them died in labor camps. I don't see how anyone could argue that was a good thing." 

"Well, a lot of things could've been handled better, there's no denying that", Garak said, "but Bajor has also profited from Cardassia's rich culture and order." 

"Garak!", the Doctor looked shocked, "You've lived among Bajorans here on the station for years, how can you say something like this?" 

The conversation almost turned into a full blown argument, with each of them defending their point of view fiercely. Both remained civil, though Garak felt that Bashir hadn't let it go when they returned to their respective work. The Doctor didn't seem angry, more disappointed. 

All that Federation moral highground so often made him blind. 

Still the conference spooked around Garak's brain. It surely would be fun to attend an official discussion, he liked conversation, even if it was Bajorans he would be talking to. 

The next day he was meeting Odo for breakfast, who also told him about the upcoming conference. He would be attending, not by choice though. 

"I would've preferred to stay behind", the constable said, "but the Captain insisted." 

It seemed to have put him in a grumpier mood than was usual for him. 

"And then he kept on saying that what the panel needed was the Cardassian opinion, but it's obviously too late to find someone now. I don't care either way, those kind of discussions are a waste of time.", he continued. 

Garak nodded silently, forming a plan in his head. 

But when he was let into Captain Sisko's office and greeted by a big grin, he realized he had walked right into the trap. 

"Mr Garak! What can I do for you?" 

Well, no chance of backing out of it now. 

"Good morning Captain, I heard about the conference on Bajor that you and the constable are going to attend.", Garak gave him his customer service smile. 

Sisko's eyes sparkled dangerously. "Yes, the panel discussion on the occupation, what about it?" 

"It came to my attention that there is not yet a Cardassian presence planned, so I'm here to offer my humble services." 

The Captain's grin grew even bigger. "But of course Mr Garak, you are very welcome to attend!" 

After clearing the details, Garak left the office feeling uncomfortably outwitted. 

On the way back to his shop, he ran into Bashir and promptly told him about what had happened. 

"You know he's using you to make the conference less boring for him, right?", the Doctor seemed amused by the thought. 

"Of course I know that", Garak was a little irritated "and _you_ helped him execute his plan." 

"Hey! You could say that about Odo as well. How was I supposed to know Sisko was counting on me to tell you about the conference?... though now I remember him asking me if I was meeting you for lunch..." 

Garak glared at him. 

"I'm sorry Garak", Bashir's mouth twitched, fighting to hide a smile. "Have you thought about getting him back by behaving during the discussions?" 

"Doctor, I think we both know that is highly unrealistic." 

Bashir answered with the mix of a giggle and a snort. 

And so it happened that the conference, or better Garak's reaction to the discussion, went exactly as the Captain had anticipated. 

Garak really was trying his best not to cause the drama that was obviously expected from him, but some of the statements he just couldn't let go uncommented. 

"If I'd known what I was walking into, I never would have gone.", he said on the way back in the shuttle with a meaningful glance at Sisko. 

"It was your idea to attend the conference in the first place, Garak.", Lieutenant Dax, who piloted the shuttle, remarked. Oh, if only she knew. 

"I thought the Bajorans would be grateful to hear _someone_ provide them with an opposing philosophical view.", he gave back. 

"Opposing view?", she repeated, looking at him incredulously. "Garak, you were trying to defend the military occupation of their world. How grateful did you think they would be?" 

"My understanding of this conference was that it was supposed to be an examination of the occupation from a dispassionate, historical perspective.", he said. "Instead, everyone went out of their way to dismiss virtually everything I had to say." 

"I thought the Bajorans bent over backwards to be polite to you, Garak.", Sisko entered the conversation. 

Now Garak was really annoyed. 

"Giving me a name tag that read 'Elim Garak - former Cardassian oppressor' was hardly polite." 

"And what did you want it to say? 'Former Spy'?", Dax mocked. 

"What I would have liked was less posturing and more debate.", Garak countered. "It's clear to me now that the Bajorans aren't really interested in discovering historical truth as much as they are in promoting the myths and legends of the 'glorious resistance'" 

"Well, Odo wasn't a member of the resistance, and he managed to attract a fair amount of attention.", Dax said. 

"Yes", Garak remarked, turning towards the constable who was sitting a bit aside. "It seems you have quite a fan club on Bajor. I half-expected you to be signing autographs at the end." 

He just rolled his eyes. 

"Don't let him get to you, Odo.", Dax cut in, "You should be proud of what you did during the occupation." 

"I've nothing to be proud of.", the constable dismissed it gruffly. "I tried to bring order to a chaotic situation. That's all." 

"You need to give yourself more credit, constable.", the Captain said. "Keeping order during the occupation would be a tough job for anyone, but you not only did it, you did it by earning the trust of both sides." 

Odo didn't look convinced. 

"What was it the moderator said?", Dax asked, "That 'you may have worked for the Cardassians, but your only master... was justice'." 

"And a legend is born.", Sisko commented. 

But the constable still remained in his strange mood, Garak couldn't put his finger on why. 

What happened after this conversation was unclear, it all seemed like a murky fog when he tried to remember. The next thing Garak knew was waking up in an environment that was a lot darker than the runabout or Deep Space Nine. 

He was rudely shaken awake by an unfamiliar Bajoran man and his head hurt. The others apparently shared his misfortune, slowly coming to. 

Garak looked around, his surroundings were familiar, Deep Space Nine, but the lighting was wrong. There was also the low hum of heavy machinery and more people. They had been sitting on, and in front of some barrels 

"What happened?", Dax asked. 

"Not here.", Sisko said, immediately taking charge. 

"I couldn't agree more.", Garak said, helping to get Odo to his feet. They needed to assess what had happened and how they got here, preferably without raising suspicion. 

They went to look for a private spot, weaving in and out of the many Bajorans. When they had found a more or less secluded part of the many walkways, the Captain said "This is Terok Nor, DS9 during the occupation." 

"Time travel?", Lieutenant Dax speculated. 

"Uh, no, it's more than that", Garak said. "Our clothes have changed." 

They were all in typical Bajoran dress, very strange. 

"Could we be in a holosuite?", Odo asked. 

"Computer, end program.", the Captain said. Nothing happened. "Let's assume that's a 'no' for the moment." 

"Benjamin, we're not attracting any attention.", Dax said. 

"And we should be.", the Captain answered thoughtfully. "Humans, Trills and Changelings didn't just stroll through Terok Nor unnoticed." 

"Well then I should be getting some attention as well.", Garak said, "We _are_ in the Bajoran sector, and Cardassians weren't exactly welcome here." 

"I don't think they see you as a Cardassian.", Sisko said. "I'm beginning to think they don't see any of us as who we really are." 

The Captain's reasoning was coherent, but Garak just couldn't come up with a theory as to why, since they saw eachother as who they were. 

"The clothes we're wearing are Bajoran.", he said, "They're treating us like Bajorans." 

"Maybe they see us as Bajoran.", Sisko pointed out the obvious. 

They discussed the matter for a while but neither of them could come up with a reason or solution for their current situation. Lieutenant Dax remembered having seen a plasma anomaly on the sensors of the runabout, and a sound... 

"No, not a sound", Garak said, suddenly remembering as well "More like a strong vibration." 

"Hmm. I remember", the Captain chimed in. "Odo?" 

"I don't recall", the constable sounded somehow distressed. "But whatever's happened, we have to leave this place, get _off_ the station." 

"Then I suggest we go directly to the authorities and explain our situation.", Garak said. 

"Garak", Odo brushed him off. 

But he continued. "I have knowledge of certain... security codes that would be sufficient to prove that I am, in fact, a Cardassian, even if their eyes say otherwise. I could always say that I'm an undercover operative posing as a Bajoran...", there he got cut off by the constable. 

"Captain, the authorities on Terok Nor will not be looking for reasons to help us. They will be looking for a reason to interrogate us, and believe me, you _do not_ want to be interrogated by the Cardassians." 

Well, Garak couldn't very well say anything against this, he himself had interrogated a number of prisoners, and the Captain seemingly agreed with Odo. 

Suddenly Dax spoke up, her eyes fixed on a point above them. "Gul Dukat's on the second level." 

Great, just what Garak needed, of course that pompous ass would turn up eventually. 

Sisko apparently shared his thoughts and suggested they move on, which they did. 

The constable seemed more and more disturbed and Garak supposed it didn't just have to do with their predicament, normally Odo was much calmer in the face of danger or unknown obstacles. 

The man they had seen talking to Dukat had been Thrax, the constable's predecessor, which meant they had gone back in time at least nine years, according to Lieutenant Dax. 

Suddenly two Cardassian guards appeared behind them. 

"You", one of them said "come with us.", and proceeded to pull Dax with them. 

Sisko tried to protest and Garak intervened as well. "Perhaps there's been some misunderstanding.", he said diplomatically, "If I may be so bold, you may find something which will bring you _infinitely_ more profit than the arrest of a Bajoran woman." 

"Latinum?", the guard asked. 

"Two strips.", Garak said. 

"Where is it?", the guard questioned with a dangerous look on his face. 

"Ah, but our friend is still in your custody.", Garak argued with, what he hoped was a winning smile. Evidently the guard disagreed and punched Garak right in the face. 

The force threw him onto some barrels which were standing to the side. Before he could get up on his own, the guard pulled him up by the collar. 

"Tempting offer", he said, "maybe next time. This one's been selected." 

And with that they marched Lieutenant Dax off. 

Garak's nose hurt, and after feeling it, he noticed it was also bleeding. 

While he nursed his face, Odo, the Captain and Garak discussed their next step. Before they could help Dax they needed to find out who they were in this reality. Computer-access would be hard to come by as Bajorans though. 

Garak suggested a Cardassian comp-link and discreetly showed the device he had stolen from the guard to his companions. 

"I see I'm going to have to add the word 'pickpocket' to your resume.", the constable commented. 

"It's only a hobby.", Garak deadpanned. 

Of course Odo didn't let go and inquired how exactly a 'simple tailor' came to have a high-level security code. But Garak was in too much pain to construct a convincing story and just brushed it off. He really didn't know why he still kept up the pretense anyway. 

"Ah, yes", he said when the device showed the information he had been looking for. "Captain, you are actually a Bajoran electronics engineer. You're 38 years old, you have no criminal record, your family resides in Rakantha Province, and your name is Ishan Chaye." 

When Garak pointed the comp-link at himself it informed him that he was an artist, 55 years old, had been arrested three times and his name was Jillur Gueta. 

As he started to recite the facts about the constable, Odo interrupted him. 

"I'm a bookkeeper. 46 years old. I have a wife and two sons in Rakantha Province, and my name is Timor Landi." 

It was exactly right. 

"How'd you know that?", Sisko asked. When the constable didn't answer right away he said "Odo?" 

But the constable just wore a disturbed look on his face. Before he could finally answer, an all too familiar voice cut through the silence. 

"Congratulations, gentlemen." 

It was Quark. 

"You get to work today, _and_ you'll be laboring in the finest establishment on the station, _my_ establishment. 12 hours of work, two five-minute breaks, one slip of latinum each. Let's go." 

Well, what were they supposed to do but accept? 

Although halfway to the bar Garak was already contemplating strangling the Ferengi for his patronizing tone. From the looks on Odo's and Sisko's faces he wasn't the only one. 

"I never knew we were such messy conquerors.", Garak muttered after the hundreth sticky plate he had collected from the tables. "I remember the occupation being a little more _tidy_ than this." 

"Everything is tidy when someone else is doing the cleaning.", the Captain said. 

"The Bajorans were much more suited for this sort of thing than we were. Servile work is in their nature.", Garak replied without thinking about it too much. 

"I'll remember to mention that to Major Kira when we get back.", Sisko said dryly with both hands in the sink. 

"There are exceptions to every rule." 

But Garak's thoughts weren't with Major Kira, they turned to Ziyal. What would she have to say about it? 

Odo's behaviour grew more erratic and Garak couldn't help but get increasingly suspicious. What was the constable hiding? And how had he known whose face he was wearing in this reality. 

When Sisko inquired, he said "I recognized the other two names from the security files kept during the occupation. Timor, Ishan and Jillur were the names of three Bajorans who were accused of attempting to assassinate Gul Dukat on the Promenade." 

A lot of people had made attempts at Dukat's life, sadly so far nobody had succeeded, but Odo explained further. These three had been innocent, though at the time noone knew and Dukat had made an example of them by publicly executing them. 

"If we're them...", Garak said, but was interrupted immediately by the Captain. 

"If we're them, we better find a way out of here before Dukat makes an example out of us." 

During their work they could overhear a conversation Quark had with the Cardassian Chief of Security. A name that was mentioned gave Garak cause to think. A captain Livara, who had been a Romulan Spy. But this man should've shown up on Terok Nor much later. So Garak checked the date, it was seven years ago from their normal timeline. 

But this meant that Odo should already be Chief of Security, not Thrax. 

He shared his findings with Sisko and the constable. None of them had any more insight on this strange phenomenon than he had, so they agreed to concentrate on finding a way off the station. 

"We need to contact the Bajoran resistance.", the Captain suggested. "They might be able to get us off the station. Maybe even to the Federation. Kira once told me about a prearranged signal the resistance used on Terok Nor to set up a meeting. Once we're finished here, we'll head back to the Bajoran sector, and I'll make the signal." 

Both Garak and Odo nodded. 

The "signal" Captain Sisko gave, turned out to consist of turning over a vase at a stall. How very boring. 

After that they sat down at a table to eat the rather slimy substance that only wore the name soup by passing resemblance. While they waited for a contact, they saw Dukat enter the Bajoran sector, followed by Lieutenant Dax. She seemed unharmed. 

"Look at him", Garak scoffed, "The commander of Terok Nor. Just another swaggering, self-important Gul with too much vanity and not enough ability." 

"Maybe", Sisko said, "but he's no fool." 

Suddenly Odo's spoon clattered into the bowl, the constable stared at his hands, seemingly in shock for a moment. 

"Are you alright?", the Captain asked. 

"Yes...", Odo replied a little shakily, "Just slipped out of my hand." 

Garak didn't believe him, but didn't say anything. They had bigger problems than the constable's strange behaviour. 

Before long, a Bajoran man took a seat at their table. 

"You wanted a meeting?", he asked and then sharply continued, "Don't look at me. Eat your soup." 

"I didn't think you would come while Dukat was here.", Sisko murmured. 

"Everyone's watching our gentle dictator stroll the Promenade with his new girlfriend.", the man said. 

The mere thought of Dukat with Lieutenant Dax was enough to put Garak off his soup. Granted, it didn't need much for that. 

"Now, I hate soup", the man continued, "and I have no intention of finishing this entire bowl, so whatever you want, let's hear it." 

"We need to get off the station", the Captain said. 

"Why?" 

"Does it matter?", Garak asked. 

The Bajoran seemed irritated by that, explaining that the Resistance wasn't a commuter service and if they were in trouble for chemical use or something along these lines they were on their own. 

Their debating was interrupted by a sudden explosion. 

Evidently a bomb had detonated in the general direction of Dukat. 

Sisko leapt up and ran towards Lieutenant Dax, who was lying on the floor unconscious. Odo tried to stop him, but before he succeeded, both of them were grabbed by Cardassian guards. Garak himself was arrested as well. 

After the last few months he had hoped never to see a holding cell from the inside again, but apparently the universe had other plans. 

"You'd think they'd put us in our own cell block, instead of with the common criminals.", Garak complained loudly over the noise of the other prisoners. "After all we are accused of attempting to assassinate the Station Commander. That deserves some respect." 

"Maybe they'll salute when they execute us.", the Captain said sarcastically. 

Then Thrax, the Security Chief, appeared, passing out sentences like sinister gifts for the people in the cells. 

When he came to them, he recounted the events, accusing them of having tried to kill Dukat with a plasma grenade. The scans of their hands showed traces of trinitrogen chloride, which was one of the components in plasma grenades. No witnesses had come forward to attest they had merely been eating soup while the explosion happened. It was flawless reasoning. 

But for the fact that TNC was also a cleaning solution which they had been using in the bar, as Odo reminded Thrax. 

"That may be true", Thrax said, "but you were seen rushing toward Dukat after the explosion. Everyone else was running away." 

"I wanted to help my friend.", Sisko said, "she was injured in the blast." 

"The report of the Cardassian guards states that you were found over the body of Gul Dukat attempting to strangle him." 

"That's a lie!", Garak yelled, growing even more angry. 

"Interrogate the troops yourself.", the constable pressed out between gritted teeth, "Don't just take their report at face value." 

Thrax was unwilling to do that. Odo made other suggestions, but to no avail. 

"There is sufficient evidence for a conviction. Your case is going before a special tribunal this afternoon. You will be informed of the sentence just before it meets.", and with that Thrax left. 

Garak's thoughts were racing. If only he could convince them that he was in fact Cardassian. Would they believe him if he said he had been surgically altered? But what if a DNA scan showed no trace of Cardassian DNA? 

"Tell me about Thrax", Sisko broke through his thoughts. He was talking to Odo. 

"What do you want to know?" 

"Something about his background. He seems unusual. Doesn't have that casual brutality I've come to expect from Cardassian Security Officers. What makes Thrax different?" 

Garak felt like he should protest the vilification of his people, but the Captain wasn't entirely wrong about the military. 

"I wouldn't know", Odo said. "He was gone by the time I came aboard the station." 

"Which brings up a good point. Why is he here now?", Sisko asked "Garak said that _you_ were the Security Chief during this time." 

"You're implying that I should know the answers, that I'm holding back information?" 

"I'm saying that maybe you know more than you think you do. You lived here, on Terok Nor. You're supposed to be out there now instead of Thrax. Think, Odo. There might be some connection between you and what's happening here." 

"I don't know", Odo shook his head. 

Suddenly there was a high-pitched squeal and a bright light shone from the back wall of the cell. A bang, and accompanied by some small flames, a hole formed, through which Lieutenant Dax poked her head. 

"Miss me?", she grinned. 

Relief flooded through Garak's body. 

They made their way though the corridors, mindful of avoiding the guards, towards the docking ring. There Dukat's personal shuttle was situated, Dax told them. 

"Halt!", suddenly three guards appeared from behind them. 

They fought and Garak managed to take a disruptor from one of them, which he used to shoot the one wrestling Odo. 

Sisko dealt with his opponent, Thrax, in a hands-on way, but suddenly the Security Chief changed his shape and fled through a ventilation shaft. 

All of them stared after him in disbelief. 

"A changeling?", Garak asked. 

"We'll figure that out later.", the Captain said and urged them on through the corridor. 

Finally they had reached the docking place of the shuttle. They opened the round door and stepped through, but when they looked around they were in the holding cell again. 

"We just got the word", a guard in front of them said, "Your execution's been scheduled for 1900. That's two hours from now." 

How was this possible? What had just happened? Garak began to feel like this was one of his nightmares, but for that it was much too coherent and detailed. 

Odo was pacing, looking even more distressed. 

"You've been acting strangely ever since we first woke up on the promenade.", Sisko said to him, "Continually distracted, depressed and agitated." 

"And you knew the names of the people we're supposed to be.", Garak added. 

"You know the details of the case like you were there.", the Captain went on. 

"But you couldn't have been there because it happened before you came aboard the station.", Garak said. 

"Everything seems to lead back to you, and I want to know why.", Sisko's tone had a dangerous note. 

But they were interrupted by Thrax, who said "You said you wanted to see me?" 

"Yes", Odo exclaimed, "it's urgent." 

Thrax let him step through the force field and they walked away. 

Sisko, Dax and Garak were left alone. Then after a few minutes, their surroundings started to blur and shift and they were standing on the promenade, apparently ready to be executed. Garak couldn't move or talk, just observe. 

He watched as Odo pleaded with Thrax and Dukat, who had appeared from somewhere. 

"There were only three terrorists, Odo. You know that.", Thrax said. 

How did he know who Odo was? 

"It's already happened.", Thrax went on. 

"But this isn't what happened.", the constable yelled "It wasn't these people. I'm not going to let this happen again. Not again!" 

He attacked one of the guards, wrangling the weapon out of his hands. 

"You can't execute them. You don't even belong here.", he yelled, "I do!" 

Reality shifted again and suddenly all of them were in their normal clothes again. Dukat, Thrax and the guards were gone. 

Garak could move again. Behind them disruptor-fire could be heard and they turned round. On the other side of the promenade stood another Odo, clad in the Cardassian uniform, overseeing the execution of the Bajoran people they had impersonated. When they were dead, the other Odo looked straight at the constable. Then they all disappeared. 

"Constable?", Sisko asked carefully. 

"That's exactly how it happened seven years ago.", Odo said without looking at him. "I was Chief of Security on the promenade. _I_ was the one who charged those men with a crime they didn't commit, and _I_ was the one who turned them over to Dukat. Three days after the executions, there was another bombing on the promenade identical to the one that almost killed Dukat. Timor, Ishan, and Jillur were innocent. All the evidence was there, the inconsistencies in the reports of the soldiers who arrested them, a pattern of bombings, the ballistics, it was all there from the beginning. 

But I was too busy, too concerned with maintaining order and the rule of law. I thought of myself as the outsider, the shape-shifter who cared for nothing but justice. It never occured to me that I could fail, but I did, and I never wanted anyone to know the truth, that seven years ago, I allowed three innocent men to die." 

When he had finished his confession, everything went fuzzy, then through a thick fog, Garak opened his eyes. 

He was lying on a biobed in the infirmary and a nurse was sweeping a tricorder over him. He could hear Doctor Bashir's voice, apparently talking to Odo. 

Garak sat up and rubbed his head, it still felt a bit woozy. Around him, on similar biobeds, were the constable, Lieutenant Dax and the Captain, waking up as well. 

He caught Bashir's gaze and the Doctor smiled at him. It almost made up for whatever it had been that Garak had just gone through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a long one again. Basically a retelling of the episode, sorry :/  
> I don't like how racist Garak is here, I think it would fit more if it was in one of the earlier seasons, but now it feels a little strange, especially since he's close to Ziyal, who's half Bajoran. That's why, in the next chapter, I'll have him work through that.  
> Oh and shoutout to EffieA who came up with the genius idea that Sisko is annoyed at having to go to the damn conference, so he decides to take Garak for entertainment. At first I planned that Sisko would just invite him, but then I watched the episode again to write out the dialogue, and Dax said it was Garak's idea to come, so I had to work around that. But I think in the end that turned out even better, so all is well^^


	25. Chapter 25

"... Odo's mind formed a version of the Great Link. There are residual traces of morphogenic enzymes left in his brain even though he's a solid now. So when the plasma storm hit the runabout it activated the enzymes and they started to reach out to other Changelings, but the only other presences they could find were you, Dax and the Captain." 

Garak nodded at Bashir, who was explaining the incident that had happened a few days ago. 

"Fascinating", he commented. "But in the future I'd prefer not to experience something like that again." 

"It must've been pretty disorienting.", the Doctor agreed, taking another bite of his Andorian redbat. 

"It was certainly very convincing.", Garak said. 

Bashir grinned. "Yeah, I noticed that." 

When Garak raised a quizzical eyeridge, the Doctor explained further. 

"While you were all unconscious, your nose started bleeding. What did you do to make someone hit you?", his eyes were dancing with humor. 

"I don't know where you get the impression that I did anyhing to deserve such treatment.", Garak said primly. "If you must know, I tried to rescue Lieutenant Dax from Dukat's greedy clutches." 

When Garak had explained the situation, Bashir said "A gallant hero, who would've thought?", his tone was teasing but his smile was warm. 

Even though he knew it was a joke, a small shiver ran down Garak's arms. 

"I do my best.", he gave back in the same teasing tone. 

"I know who else you could rescue.", the Doctor said. 

"Do tell." 

"Odo.", Bashir said gravely. "When I explained the thing about the link and the morphogenic enzymes to him, Kira came into the office. She had her serious 'we-need-to-talk-face' on, so I left." 

Garak raised his eyeridges. "Poor constable. I'm guessing the Major is taking it quite hard that he let three innocent men get executed." 

The Doctor nodded. "Well, nobody's infallible, not even Odo. And if Cardassia didn't have the death-penalty, there wouldn't have been so much harm done." 

Garak kept a neutral expression. "I agree that it is certainly a punishment that lacks nuance. But an effective punishment nonetheless." 

Bashir seemingly thought about that for a moment, then he said, "So you're saying you agree with killing crimininals, but only under certain circumstances?" 

Garak smiled. "My dear, I think you've known me long enough to have noticed that I'm all about nuance and circumstance." 

The Doctor smiled as well. "Why did I even expect a straight answer?" 

Then his expression changed for the fraction of a second before returning to a smile, eyes on something behind Garak. 

"Doctor Bashir, Garak, hello!" 

Garak turned towards Ziyal who appeared beside their table, a tray in hand. 

Bashir and Garak returned her greeting. 

"Oh, now that I'm seeing you, I just quickly wanted to ask if you wanted to come to the Cardassian sauna programme with me again sometime?", she turned towards Garak. 

"Of course my dear", he said, "I'll let you know when I'm free." 

"Great", she smiled "then I'll leave you to your lunch.", and she motioned to go, but before she had the chance, the Doctor got up. 

"No no", he said "I was just about to go, my lunch break is almost over.", he scooped up his tray and stepped to the side "have a seat, I'm sure Garak will appreciate the company.", with that he bid them farewell and walked off with long strides. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. 

Both Garak and Ziyal gazed after him, equally puzzled. 

Bashir had lied, he still had a little less than fifteen minutes until he needed to be in the infirmary again, Garak knew that. And usually he would stay literally until the last minute and then sprint back, unless there was an emergency. 

Garak shook himself out of the momentary stupor that had apparently also befallen Ziyal. 

"Please, sit down my dear.", he motioned to the seat the Doctor had left vacant. 

She did, slowly. "I really didn't want to disturb you.", her face showed confusion and concern in equal measure. 

"Don't worry about it.", Garak said "Our Doctor is a very busy man.", he hoped the note of bitterness was only audible to himself. If Ziyal had noticed, she didn't say anything about it. 

"So...", she began, visibly struggling against the awkwardness Bashir had left behind, "I heard about your unfortunate journey back from the conference you attended." Garak nodded, trying to dissuade the uncomfortable situation as well. "It was indeed unfortunate. I'm just glad the whole experience turned out to be ficticious. As much as I disagree with the Federation, but Terok Nor was quite a grim place during the occupation." 

He had wanted to say something about rather being dead than living under Dukat's rule again, but thought better of it, considering present company. 

It was sometimes difficult to hold back his hatred towards Dukat when talking to Ziyal, but nobody would benefit from it if he didn't. He would never convince her what a terrible man her father was and she would only end up angry and upset with him. 

How she could be so naive or willfully ignorant while otherwise being such a bright young woman was a mystery to him. But then Garak remembered his own special relationship to his father. Maybe he wasn't the right person to judge. 

"I'm surprised to hear you say that.", she ripped him from his thoughts. "You keep telling me about the glorious days of the Cardassian empire." 

"Where there is light, there's also shadow.", he gave back vaguely. 

"You mean the ore-processing center and the Bajoran sector." 

Oh she was clever. 

He inclined his head "I only lived on Terok Nor for a short period before the Federation took over and it became Deep Space Nine. In this time I never entered the Bajoran sector or visited the ore processing center, there was no reason for me to do so. I knew what was going on of course, but seeing it from the Bajoran perspective now was... certainly an experience." 

"My mother always said how father was trying to make things better for the Bajoran people, but she still told me about the processing center and the conditions there.", Ziyal's eyes were unfocused, looking to the past. "She wanted me to know, because even though father was trying his best, there were limits to what he could do without turning against the Cardassian government. 'You're half Bajoran', she said 'their pain is your pain too'. I've never forgotten that." 

Garak looked at her, _really_ looked at her for probably the first time. There was no doubt, she was half Bajoran. Of course he had known that all along, but he had overlooked the ridges on her nose in favour of her other distinctly Cardassian features. Her eye- and neckridges might not be as pronounced, but she was clearly identifiable as Cardassian, and that was all he had wanted to see. 

It wasn't an everyday-occurrence that Garak didn't know what to say, but luckily Ziyal continued after a short pause. 

"Every time I go to the shrine I feel like I'm honoring my mother's memory, like she is still with me. It took some time, but the other Bajorans are used to my presence now, I'm even on friendly terms with some of them. It's much harder to find Cardassians who can look beyond these.", she brushed a fingertip over the ridges on her nose. "That's why I'm glad that you're here.", she smiled broadly and touched her hand to his on the table. 

Garak returned the smile shakily. 

He wasn't used to feeling guilty, but a gigantic wave of it threatened to engulf him now. 

Though he would make sure never to let her know, never let her learn the truth about what he had thought and how he had seen her. How he had seen half of who she was. 

"I'm glad we met as well", he said sincerely, took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. She beamed, blissfully unaware of the turmoil her words had caused. 

Even after they had said their goodbyes and Garak sat in his shop again, he couldn't stop his thoughts from circling. 

It wasn't just about Ziyal. Everything he had heard about Bajorans when he grew up on Cardassia, he had ingested without question. Bajorans were weak, less intelligent than Cardassians, and that was why it was right that the Cardassian Empire had invaded Bajor. It was just a well-known fact, like planets rotating around suns. 

And then the Bajoran terrorists had won. One of them was here on the station, the one he had declared was an exception to the rule. 

But was she really? 

So many Bajorans frequented his shop and they were... normal. Just regular people as everyone else, as every Cardassian on the streets in his hometown back on Cardassia Prime. And Garak had never even noticed. 

If Ziyal's mother had been in that cell, or Aroya, the woman he had tried to set up with Odo, they wouldn't have been believed either. The three men the constable had failed to save had been executed because the guards had lied. Because they had been believed without question. Because during the occupation, a Bajoran life had been worth nothing. 

An icy lump had formed in Garak's stomach. His thoughts were spinning. If this immovable fact turned out to be wrong, what else had he been taught that was false or incomplete? 

His whole life he had made lying into an art form, and all of that time he had never considered that he might've been lied to as well. That what he thought true, was only more lies. 

For a moment Garak thought that maybe he owed Major Kira an apology for the comments he had made about Bajorans being more suited to servile work, as a kind of symbolic gesture, but then decided that went a bit too far. He still didn't like her personality much, Bajoran or not, and she had shown the same dislike for him on numerous occasions. Better to keep this revelation to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when this fic took the turn from "I want to write about Garak and Julian kissing" to "let's explore Garak's latent racism and flesh out Ziyal's character" but here we are, hope you like it^^; (and kissing will reappear soon I hope, please be patient with me)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "In Purgatory's Shadow". Again, some dialogue is taken directly from the show.

Maybe it had been a mistake to take Ziyal's hand, she seemed to have taken it as encouragement that her feelings might be returned. 

Well, that was apparently what one got for being honest. Garak _was_ glad they had met, about finally having someone who was also -at least half- Cardassian. But there was no romance to his feelings for Ziyal. 

Whenever they shared meals in the consecutive weeks, she would find a way to express what she felt in a small way, which he tried to brush off with a joke. Not to hurt or mock her, but to redirect the conversation. 

Why he didn't flat out tell her he couldn't give her what she wanted, he didn't really know. Perhaps it was his cowardly nature, he didn't want to lose her company, his lifeline to Cardassia. Even though that wasn't true, Ziyal had never lived on Cardassia and probably never would. 

She didn't seem to mind that Garak didn't acknowledge how she felt, they just kept on spending time together like before, and she was her usual bubbly self. It was quite remarkable how comfortable Ziyal was in sharing her emotions. In Cardassian society that would've been trained out of her from the get-go. 

Time went by and Garak got fully used to freedom again. Work picked up when the newest addition to the O'Brien family, Kirayoshi, was born. All of Major Kira's uniforms needed to be taken in again, and new clothes had to be made for the baby. 

Around the same time, Odo got his shapeshifting abilities back, which wasn't as joyous an occasion as it should've been, but overall improved his mood. 

Garak and Doctor Bashir continued their weekly routine and the Doctor was acting normal again after the interrupted lunch. 

Until he wasn't. 

That Bashir had to cancel one of their appointments for an emergency or a mission wasn't anything new. But after he came back from a medical conference, he didn't seem too keen to pick up on their shared luncheons again. 

When Garak finally got a date out of him when he would be free, the Doctor suggested he should ask Ziyal to join them, since he might need to leave early and didn't want to abandon Garak without company. 

Garak found it a little strange, but since Ziyal and Bashir had planned the picnic in the holosuite for him together, he assumed they got along well. 

Maybe he was thinking too much into it, but Garak couldn't shake the feeling that the Doctor didn't want to be alone with him. Had he finally tired of Garak's games and the endless discussions? Was he trying to palm him off to Ziyal? 

Garak tried to push down the rising anger, if he acted on it without thinking rationally now, nothing good would come of it. He would wait and see. 

What he saw though, was that in the following weeks, Bashir only found more excuses to either leave lunch early or somehow include other people. 

The worst thing was that it didn't leave Garak any room to confront the Doctor about his behaviour. And what would he even say? He had no claim whatsoever on Bashir. 

These were the thoughts running through Garak's mind when he sat, yet again, in the Replimat with the Doctor and Ziyal, talking about something pointless and not really paying attention. 

Suddenly Bashir's comm badge chirped. 

"Dax to Bashir." 

The Doctor furrowed his brow. "Bashir here, what is it?" 

"Is Mr Garak with you?" 

"... yes." 

"The Captain would like to speak to him, please send him to Ops." 

"Alright. Bashir out.", he looked confused "What do you think he might want?", the question was directed towards Garak. 

"Well Doctor, I suppose I'll find out soon. If you will both excuse me?" 

Garak went on his way to Ops. It wasn't often that his services were called upon, but when they were, it was always a good distraction from everyday life, and that was what he needed right now. 

"One of our listening posts in the Gamma Quadrant has picked up something that looks a lot like a Cardassian military code.", were the words he was greeted by upon entering Sisko's office. 

"I thought you might be able to help us decode it. We also sent it to Bajoran Intelligence, but we haven't heard anything from them yet." 

Garak smirked at that, so there were some codes the Bajorans hadn't cracked afterall. 

"I will do my best, Captain, although I'm not sure why you think a humble tailor might know more about military code than Bajoran Intelligence.", he said with a big grin and a half bow. 

Sisko almost rolled his eyes and they both left it at that. 

A Cardassian code from the Gamma Quadrant? That was highly unusual, unless... could it be the lost fleet? Garak tried not to show his excitement when the Captain guided him to one of the computer panels and called up the message. 

His heart stopped dead in its track when he saw it. He would know that encryption anywhere. 

Still focused on not showing the racing thoughts in his brain to the outside world, Garak made a show of trying different codes, some known to the Bajorans, others secret. Major Kira, who was looking over his shoulder now, seemed very interested in these. 

Finally he declared that it was a match with a triumphant face, that he then let slip theatrically into disappointment. 

"It... seems to be a planetary survey report?", he said with faked confusion. "about five years old." 

Frustrated sighs all round. 

Still Sisko thanked him for his work, and then Garak was dismissed. He went back to his lunch. 

"I'm _sorry_ for the interruption.", he said, arriving at the table. 

"Well, how did it go?", Ziyal asked. 

"I'm afraid I disappointed them. I think they were hoping that the message they picked up would contain the key to defeating the Dominion. You should have seen the looks on their faces when I explained to them that it was a five-year-old planetary survey report." 

"A planetary survey report?", Bashir asked incredulous, furrowing his brows. 

"That's the look exactly.", said Garak and pointed at the Doctor. Ziyal grinned. 

"I would've thought you'd be a little disappointed, too.", Bashir said. "After all, it could have been from one of the survivors of the Cardassian fleet that was lost in the Gamma Quadrant." 

"Oh, I'd given up hope of ever finding any trace of _them_ long ago.", Garak sighed. 

"Really?", Ziyal asked "I never saw you as the giving-up type." 

In any other situation Garak would be flattered, but instead he said, "There comes a time when one must face reality, my dear. Those people are gone and are never coming back." 

She looked solemn. 

"Well... my young friends", Garak said, getting up from his seat, "I'd like to stay here and chat all day, but I have dresses to make, trousers to mend. It's a full life, if a trifle banal. And do tell Captain Sisko that I'd be more than happy to decode any Cardassian laundry lists that come across his desk.", he touched his palm to Ziyal's in a parting gesture. "My dear." 

At the Doctor he just nodded. 

Then he went on his way to the shop, but before he arrived there, he changed his course to the habitat ring and his quarters. He needed some time to think. And to pack. 

There it was again, the siren call, and Garak knew it would be better for him to just ignore it. But even this simple message had such power over him that he couldn't ignore it. 

About an hour later he had a plan, and a shoulder bag of essentials he would need. Mercifully the docking ring was empty apart from a few passing officers. 

Carefully Garak stepped through the round door into the runabout, just about to take a seat at the helm, when one of the chairs swivelled round and a phaser was pointed directly at him. 

"Going somewhere?", Bashir asked. 

When he had overcome the surprise, Garak smirked approvingly. 

"I really must remember to stop underestimating you, Doctor. How did you know?" 

"You mean that you were lying about the contents of the message?", Bashir asked, his tone a lot more deep and serious than normal. "You said you'd given up on the Cardassian survivors who were lost in the Gamma Quadrant. Well, Ziyal was right. You're not the giving-up sort." 

What clever friends he had, both a blessing and a curse. 

"Very good, Doctor. You've come a long way from the naive young man I met five years ago.", Garak slid the bag from his shoulder and sat down on the other seat. "You've become distrustful and suspicious. It suits you." 

"I had a good teacher." 

Garak smiled at him. 

"What did the message _really_ say, Garak?", Bashir asked. 

"It was a call for help... from Enabran Tain." 

"Tain? But you said you'd seen his ship destroyed by the Dominion." 

Garak would've thought to see more emotions on the Doctor's face at the mention of Tain's name besides puzzlement. 

"I did", he answered, "but Tain was head of the Obsidian Order for 20 years. If he can survive that, he can survive anything. I have to find him, Doctor. I owe it to him." 

Garak hoped to somehow convey to Bashir that he really had no choice. 

"You don't owe Tain anything. He had you exiled from Cardassia.", the Doctor said. 

No, that had apparently not worked. So Garak went on, "Yes, but, aside from that, we were very close. He was... my mentor, and I'm not going to turn my back on him.", he expected the old argument to resurface, but Bashir didn't say anything. 

"If it'll make you feel any better, you can come with me.", Garak suggested and tried not to sound too desperate. "All you have to do is come up with an excuse why you need the runabout, and we could leave immediately." 

Wouldn't it be fun, and exciting? An adventure, just the two of them. 

"So let me get this straight.", the Doctor said, "You want me to lie to my commanding officer, violate Starfleet regulations, and go with you on a mission into the Gamma Quadrant, which will probably get us both killed." 

"I'm ready when you are." 

"In that case... let's go." 

Garak's heart hammered and he turned towards the controls, grinning. 

"To Captain Sisko's office.", Bashir completed the sentence and raised the phaser again. 

Well, it could've been so nice. 

Garak sighed deeply, got up and let himself be escorted to Ops. 

"How do you know that the message isn't a fake?", Sisko asked when they were standing in his office, "That it was really sent by Tain?" 

"The code sequence was personally designed by Tain and myself. No one else knows it.", Garak answered. "Now somehow, he got that message out, and I have to follow it back to its source." 

"Did the message contain any coordinates?" 

"No", Garak said, "Most of it was identification code. The rest of it was just one word, 'alive', repeated over and over again. So it should be easy enough to triangulate the source. Captain... Tain might not be alone. There could be others. Troops from the Cardassian-Romulan fleet, survivors from the Dominion attack on New Bajor, and even crew members from those Federation ships that disappeared in the Gamma Quadrant. This is a mission of mercy. You can't ignore it." 

He hoped this would appeal to the Captain's morality that he valued so highly. 

"I'm still not totally convinced that it's a genuine message. But I suppose there's only one way to find out.", Sisko said thoughtfully. 

"Captain", Bashir piped up, "you can't let him go. It's too dangerous." 

Now wasn't that just sweet? 

"Your concern is touching, Doctor, but I assure you, I _can_ take care of myself.", Garak said. 

"Maybe you can", the Captain cut in, "but you're still not going alone." 

Garak smiled. "Doctor? I think you've just volunteered." 

So he would get his adventure with Bashir afterall. 

"Doctor Bashir isn't going anywhere.", said Sisko firmly, "But I do have someone else in mind." 

Garak's smile faltered. What a spoilsport. 

After the Captain had laid out his plan, which involved a scheduled runabout for the next day and Commander Worf of all people, Garak and Bashir left the office together. 

"I hope you're not too displeased with me, Doctor?", Garak asked a little playfully, testing the ground, as they rode down to the promenade in the turbolift. 

The Doctor sighed. "No... no, of course not." 

"I'm glad to hear it, and I promise not to try to cause a genocide this time." 

Maybe the comment had been a little too crass, the look on Bashir's face certainly spoke of his displeasure. But before Garak could make amends, the turbolift reached its destination. 

"If you'll excuse me", the Doctor said, "I'm needed back in the infirmary.", he smiled and gave a little wave at Garak before he hurried along, but there was something off about it, something forced. 

Garak sighed, once again he had done it. But to be fair, Bashir had been distant the last few weeks anyway. Maybe when he came back, _if_ he came back, things would be different. He didn't know how, but perhaps they would somehow. 

In the evening he met Ziyal for dinner at Quark's and told her what he was about to do. 

"The Gamma Quadrant?", she asked incredulous, "You can't go to the Gamma Quadrant." 

"Oh I can... and I will.", he said, "I have to." 

"But if something were to happen to you, I... I don't know what I'd do." 

There was the pang of guilt again. 

"Oh I'm sure you could find someone else to eat your meals with.", he said, trying for a light tone, "Not that you'd have to. I fully intend to return." 

She shook her had, closing her eyes briefly. "It's not just the meals." 

"Yes, I know. I'm the only other Cardassian on the station.", he took a sip of his drink to avoid her gaze. 

"It's not that either. You know that. It's just that... you're intelligent and cultured... and kind." 

She was so earnest it almost hurt to look at her. 

"My dear, you're young", he said "so I realize that you're a poor judge of character." 

"Why do you always make fun of my feelings for you?" 

"Perhaps because I find them a bit, uh, misguided?", he asked the tabletop. 

"Well, if this is what you think, why do you spend so much time with me?" 

A good question, a very good one. Garak took a small pause before answering. 

"Because I'm exiled... and alone, and a long way from home. And when I'm with you, it doesn't feel so bad." 

It was the truth, and he had never before admitted to it out loud. 

"I'm glad I could help.", she said, but there was sadness in her eyes. 

"Ziyal...", he began impulsively "no matter what happens, no matter how bleak things may look, I promise you I _will_ come back. You have my word." 

The smile was back on her face and she grabbed his hands. "I believe you." 

"Take your hands off her!" 

Suddenly Garak was grabbed by the lapel and hoisted off his seat. 

"Father, no!", Ziyal cried as Dukat pressed him against the bannister and bent Garak's torso over it as if he wanted to throw him down onto the first level. 

"You touch my daughter again, I'll kill you.", Dukat spat out between gritted teeth. 

"Father...", Ziyal said, "let him go. Please!" 

"Go ahead. Kill me.", Garak taunted, although he knew he wasn't improving the situation, "She'll never forgive you, you know." 

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen.", Quark had arrived at the scene, "I don't know what's going on here, but I'm sure it's no excuse to act like a pair of Klingons." 

"I'll act as I please, Ferengi.", Dukat bellowed, never taking his eyes off Garak. 

"Then you'll excuse me while I call Security. I'm sure Odo will get a big thrill out of having _you_ locked up in one of his holding cells." 

It was a pleasant picture Quark was conjuring up, and Garak would pay a substantial sum of latinum to see it. 

"Father... _please_.", Ziyal said again with determination. 

"Public opinion seems to be running against you.", Garak added. 

After a moment of careful deliberation, Dukat had made his decision and pulled Garak forwards, away from the bannister with a jolt. 

"You know...", Garak said, "I think that actually helped my back." 

Quark rolled his eyes. "Let's go, Garak. I'll buy you a drink." 

It was probably best to take him up on his offer. 

"A pleasure... as always my dear.", he said to Ziyal, touching their palms together. "You do have a lovely daughter.", he added towards Dukat, "She must take after her mother." 

Then he trailed after Quark, down to the first level and the bar. 

"What was that all about?", Quark asked as he poured Garak the promised Kanar. 

"Well, you know our friend Dukat.", Garak answered with a grimace and sipped his drink. 

"I know that you're flirting with his daughter.", Quark said, "I'd be more careful if I were you." 

"I'm not flirting with Ziyal.", he said. 

"Yeah, right.", Quark scoffed "And I'm the Grand Nagus himself, living in the tower of Commerce. I only do this bartender-thing as a hobby cause I'm bored with all my wealth." 

"I am _not_ flirting with her.", Garak repeated, "We spend some time together as friends, is that so unusual?" 

He was certainly not going to explain the complexity of the situation and his personal feelings to Quark. 

"Well, whatever.", Quark waved the topic away, "What's Dukat doing here anyway?" 

"You know as much as I do." 

Apparently he was there for some repairs on his ship, and to spend some time with Ziyal of course, as she informed Garak the next day before his departure. 

She came to see him off at the airlock and wished him luck. He had hoped the Doctor would do the same, as he had done it before, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

A little disappointed Garak boarded the runabout and prepared himself for a long journey with Mr Worf. Oh what joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're reaching some interesting Garak/Bashir interaction again with this two-part episode :D  
> I'm starting to feel really sorry for Ziyal though, I just want her to be happy ;_; But her and Garak are just not a good match, she only sees his positive sides, not the dark ones, just as he only saw her Cardassian side. Not a good basis for a relationship.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "In Purgatory's Shadow". Again, some dialogue is taken directly from the show.

If there wasn't anything fun to do, you could always create some entertainment for yourself. Resourcefulness was something highly valued in the Obsidian Order, and Garak had always tried to adhere to it. 

Besides, if he was going to meet Tain again, he would do well to brush off his slightly dusty skills. 

Trying to convince Worf that he was intending to apply to Starfleet Academy was the right choice of exercise. 

"You are a spy, an assassin, and a saboteur.", Mr Worf answered Garak's question why he shouldn't join Starfleet. 

"I know I've done some unfortunate things in the past, and I regret them.", Garak said with the appropriate amount of emotion in his voice. "That's why I want to join Starfleet, why I _need_ to join Starfleet. I'm looking for a fresh start, a way to make up for all the damage I've done. I need to prove to myself that I can be better than I am, but I need your help, your support to start me on my way... to redemption." 

Apparently this little speech had impressed Worf sufficiently enough that he answered, "If that is how you feel, I will... _consider_ your request." 

"That's all I ask.", Garak gave back modestly. "Frankly, I think I can be quite an asset to Starfleet. With my extensive experience, I could skip the lower ranks entirely and begin my career as a Commander. Maybe you should suggest that in your letter. Tell them you'd be honoured to serve under me." 

"Do not play games with me.", Worf growled, "You have no desire to join Starfleet, do you?" 

"No, I'm afraid I don't.", Garak said with a smile. 

"Then why all of this deception?" 

"Because lying is a skill like any other, and if you want to maintain a level of excellence, you have to practice constantly.", this time it was the truth. 

"Practice on someone else.", Worf scoffed. 

"Mr Worf, you're no fun at all." 

"Good." 

Garak sighed, back to boredom it was. 

A few hours later he was just in a rant about the ill-equipped replicators on the runabout - no Red-leaf tea would you believe it? - when the small shuttle came to a halt. 

"We've just dropped out of warp.", Garak said, "Is there something wrong?" 

"We can go no further.", was Worf's answer. 

"What do you mean?" 

"My readings indicate the source of that coded signal is deep in Dominion space. I have strict orders to avoid unnecessary risk.", Worf sighed, "We must turn back." 

Garak fought back a noise of frustration. 

"Well, I certainly don't want to take an unnecessary risk, but our sensors show no sign of Jem'Hadar warships in this area." 

"True", Worf conceded, "but the likelihood of contact will increase from this point on, and my orders were very clear." 

"But we've come all this way.", the frustration could now clearly be heard in Garak's voice, "To turn around now without an answer, it seems so... un-Klingon." 

"I am also a Starfleet officer." 

Yes, and didn't Garak just know _that_. 

"Why don't we go through this nebula?", he suggested, pointing at the location on the screen, "We can avoid detection, and get light-years closer to the source of the transmission." 

"Our shields would be useless in that nebula.", Worf objected. 

"But so would Jem'Hadar sensors.", Garak said, "The answer is out there Commander. We just have to have the courage to find it. And remember, it's not just Tain we're looking for. The Maryland, the Proxima, the Sarajevo, Starfleet ships that have been lost in the Gamma Quadrant for years, and their crews, brave soldiers, warriors of the Federation, unaccounted for. We owe it to them to do everything in our power to find them and bring them home. It's the honourable thing to do." 

Worf looked at him disparagingly. "You use that word, but you have no idea what it means." 

"Maybe not... but _you_ do." 

After a short pause, Worf said "Setting course for the nebula." 

Garak smiled. 

So on they went. 

"There's a pocket of toh-maire gas ahead of us.", Garak said when they had flown into the nebula. 

"Bringing her to 031 mark 355.", Worf answered. 

"Steady as she-", Garak began as he saw something on the monitor and the console started beeping. 

"Now what could that be?" 

"Whatever they are,", Worf answered, "they are coming right at us." 

It didn't take long for the mystery to clear up, out of the front windows of the runabout, they saw a whole fleet of Jem'Hadar ships appearing against the purple-tinted background of the nebula. 

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.", Garak commented. 

They tried to escape, dodging phaser shots left right and center, but the situation seemed hopeless. 

"We must warn the station", Worf said, "There is only one reason for the Dominion to hide such a large fleet this close to the wormhole." 

"You think they're planning to attack the Alpha Quadrant?", Garak asked. 

"I'm certain of it." 

"Your message is transmitting, but it's hard to tell if it's getting through all this interference.", Garak said, checking the monitor. 

"We've got to get clear of the nebula.", Worf said, just as the runabout shook dangerously. 

"What happened?", Garak asked looking around, "We've just come to a dead stop." 

"They have us in a tractor beam.", Worf growled. 

"Repolarize the hull", Garak said urgently, getting up from his seat, "Try to shake us loose." 

But it was too late. Four armed Jem'Hadar soldiers materialized inside the small runabout. 

"Ah... are we glad to see you.", Garak said in his friendliest customer service voice. Talking was always worth a try. "Could one of you point us in the direction of the wormhole?" 

Then the world around him went black. 

He awoke on the floor of a holding cell, Mr Worf sat next to him, back leaned against the wall. The side of his head was hurting as if... no, that Jem'Hadar had _definitely_ hit him with the hilt of his weapon. 

"We're aboard one of their ships", Worf explained, "they're bringing us to a prison camp." 

The journey wasn't far, so soon they were beamed down to the camp, which seemed to be located on an asteroid. 

"Ah, good", Garak said to the Jem'Hadar in front of them, "You look like the man in charge. I was just trying to explain to your colleagues here that this is all an unfortunate misunderstanding." 

Maybe this one would be willing to listen. 

"Cardassians are all alike.", the Jem'Hadar said without changing his neutral expression, "you talk too much.", and with that he quickly seized Garak by the throat. 

Worf tried to come to his aid, grabbing the soldier's arm. "Let him go." 

"I give the orders here.", the Jem'Hadar said, still expressionless. "release me... or die." 

Garak's grip on reality started getting fuzzy and he gasped for air. 

"Worf...", he pressed out, "do as he says." 

He did, and in turn the Jem'Hadar released his death-grip on Garak's throat. 

"This is Internment Camp 371. You are here because you are enemies of the Dominion. There is no release, no escape, except death." 

Well, what a lovely place, they would surely feel right at home. 

They were sheltered in Barrack 6, pointing to the fact that there were at least five more, and were free to move around the compound, which consisted of a fenced area outside the barracks, grey as everything else in the camp. 

Beyond the atmospheric dome there was nothing but space, no air to breathe, certain death should one venture outside. 

The Jem'Hadar commander seemed thrilled, in the range of his ability, that with Mr Worf a new Klingon had arrived. They soon saw why. There was a fighting area, a ring, with four posts equally spread along the circumference. Apparently it was built so the Jem'Hadar could fight prisoners for training purposes. 

When they arrived at the scene, a match was in full force, a Klingon in typical armor against a Jem'Hadar soldier. 

"General Martok.", Worf said surprised. 

He was doing well against the Jem'Hadar, but suddenly he was thrown down, the Jem'Hadar soldier moved in for a final move, but his commander called a halt to the fight. Unwilling, but obedient the soldier moved away. 

When the crowd of other Jem'Hadar had dissolved, Worf stepped into the ring to help Martok to his feet, Garak followed. 

"Do I know you?", Martok asked. 

"I am Worf, son of Mogh." 

"Yes, I've heard of you.", Martok said. 

"How long have you been here?", Garak asked, mentally calculating. It had been quite some time since the Martok Changeling had been exposed. 

"Two years.", he said. 

"Aren't you Klingons supposed to kill yourselves when you're taken prisoner?", Garak asked suspiciously. 

"Not when there are still enemies to fight.", Worf cut in. 

"Or hope of escape.", Martok added. 

Well, those Klingon rules of honour seemed to be more open to interpretation than Garak had previously thought. More like guidelines, really. 

"If you... are Worf...", Martok said now, "then you must be Garak. He said you would come." 

To say Garak was surprised the General knew his name was an understatement. 

Without too many unnecessary words Martok led them to one of the barracks. They entered a shared sleeping area. 

"There.", Martok pointed to one of the cots in a far corner. 

Garak knelt beside it, and the big lumpy form under the blanket. 

"Tain.", he said with a strange lump in his throat. 

"What is wrong with him?", Worf asked when Tain didn't open his eyes. 

"It's his heart.", Martok said. 

"Really? There are many people who'd say he doesn't have one." Garak didn't feel the humor of the statement, he didn't feel much of anything. 

"He was convinced that you would come.", Martok said. 

"He knew I had no choice.", Garak answered, then he softly said "Tain. Tain, I'm here." 

At that his eyes fluttered open. "My message...", he pressed out, "it got through?" 

"It did.", Garak answered with a neutral expression. 

"Where are the others?", Tain asked. 

That made Garak laugh shortly, still without much humor. "There are no others. Just Commander Worf and me." 

Tain snorted derisively, as much as his condition permitted. "You allowed yourselves to be taken prisoner? I taught you better than that. Living on that station has dulled your wits." 

Worf and Martok, sensing the tension, did the only sensible thing and moved away. 

"That's it?", Garak asked, "After I've come all this way, after all I've been through, that's all you have to say to me?" 

Ah, and there was the emotion again, the constant suppressed anger he had felt for years, comforting as an old blanket. 

"What do you want me to say?", Tain asked. 

"I want you to say, 'thank you, Elim. Your loyalty is most gratifying. I knew I could count on you.'" 

"But I couldn't count on you, could I?", Tain's voice had the usual snarl, even though he was weak, "All you've done is to doom us... both." 

His eyes drooped closed, and he slipped into unconsciousness again. 

Garak breathed hard. 

Then he got up and joined Worf and Martok who were standing in a corner of the barrack. 

"Before this asteroid was converted into a prison", Martok said, "the Dominion used to mine ultritium here. There was no dome. Each one of these barracks had its own life-support system embedded in the walls." 

"And Tain was able to modify that life-support system and create a subspace transmitter.", Garak said, catching on. 

"Yes.", Martok nodded, "There's a crawl space just behind those panels. He spent hours in there working every day for months on end. Cardassians.", he chuckled, "they're clever people. Especially that one.", he looked in Tain's direction. "But in just a few days, at best, he'll be dead." 

Worf spoke up. "Then it is up to us to be clever." 

The next moment, the door opened and a Romulan woman entered the room. 

"They're releasing him from isolation.", she said to Martok. 

"Good.", Martok commented. 

"Who?", Worf asked. 

"A friend." 

Just some seconds after that, a person was unceremoniously shoved through the door by a Jem'Hadar soldier. 

"Move!", the soldier yelled. 

The person caught their fall at the doorframe and looked up at the crowd, gathered in the barrack. 

In that moment, Garak's brain short-circuited and he just stared. He simply couldn't put together what his eyes saw, and what he thought he knew to be true. 

Doctor Bashir had stayed on the station when Garak had left. He might not have seen him off, but there was no way he could've arrived in this place before Garak. 

"What...", Worf said behind him, apparently equally confused. 

Bashir had dark circles under his eyes, and overall seemed to be not in great shape, but when he saw familiar faces he broke out into a smile. 

"Worf! Garak! It's so good to see you." 

Then his smile dropped suddenly as he realized what their presence meant. "Oh no..." 

"But...", Garak began dumbly, still not fully comprehending, "you were on the station when we left." 

"I think we should all sit down.", Martok suggested, looking round at the stunned faces, "There's some explaining to do." 

So they did. 

The Doctor produced a sharp tool from a medical kit, and took a blood sample from everyone. 

"B-negative", he commented on his own sample, "in case you were wondering." 

"Well, it appears we are all who we seem to be.", Martok said when none of the blood samples showed a trace of Changeling goo. 

" _If_ the blood screenings can be trusted.", Worf said sceptically. 

"It's all we've got.", Bashir said. Garak couldn't stop looking at him. 

To at least appear to pay attention he said "What about the others? Have they been tested?" 

"Everyone except that Breen.", the Doctor said, looking directly at Garak and meaning a figure lying on one of he cots that hadn't moved even once during their stay in the barrack. "No blood." 

"When were you brought here?", Garak asked before he could stop himself. 

"Over a month ago. I was attending a burn-treatment conference on Meezan IV. I went to bed one night and woke up here." 

Garak's stomach turned to ice. He remembered Bashir telling him about that conference, and his return from the same just about marked him becoming so stand-offish towards Garak. 

Oh he had been a fool! Too busy to wallow in self-pity to notice that the Doctor had been replaced by a Changeling! 

Almost through a haze he heard Martok say "The same thing happened to me, except I was hunting sabre bear out on Kang's Summit. Little did I know, I was being stalked as well. And now I'm told the Changeling that replaced me has caused the death of countless Klingons. It is a grave dishonour." 

"You are not to blame.", Worf said. 

"I can only imagine what my replacement is up to on the station.", Bashir said, staring into the distance. 

"We must escape and warn Captain Sisko.", Worf said, "before that Changeling carries out his mission." 

They all nodded. Exactly how they would accomplish it was yet to be determined. 

The "meeting" was over, and Martok and Worf wandered off, talking about Klingon business probably, leaving Garak and Bashir alone. 

The Doctor looked up at Garak from his sitting position. 

"Care for a walk?" 

Garak nodded. 

They exited the barrack and walked around the compound, side by side. For a while neither of them said a word, then Bashir spoke up. 

"I gather you've seen that Tain isn't well." 

"Yes.", Garak answered, "he's always had trouble with his heart, but it's never been this bad." 

"I did what I could, but my resources here are limited." 

"Thank you, Doctor. Truly.", Garak would've liked to take Bashir's hand, but he restrained himself and instead tried to convey that he really meant it with a smile. "Though I'm afraid you might have wasted your time.", he added bitterly. 

The Doctor raised his eyebrows in a silent question. 

"Tain doesn't deserve your care, or anyone else's. A man who can't even show a glimpse of gratitude towards someone who tried to come to his aid, frankly isn't worth saving." 

Bashir's face changed towards understanding, obviously putting together what had happened between Tain and Garak. 

Garak went on. "I should never have come here. I should have let that monster die forgotten and alone.", he had talked himself into a rage. 

"Frankly, I'm glad you came.", Bashir said, "Misery loves company." 

"All my life I've done nothing but try to please that man.", Garak couldn't stop the flow of words spilling out of his mouth. "I let him mold me... let him turn me into a mirror image of himself. And how did he repay me? With exile. But I forgave him. And here, in the end, I thought maybe, just maybe, he could forgive me." 

"From what I've seen of him over the past month, he doesn't come across as the forgiving type.", the Doctor said quietly. There was something strange in the way he looked at Garak. 

What kind of poison had that vicious toad dropped into Bashir's ears? 

Garak was burning inside. "I've been a fool. Let this be a lesson to you, Doctor. Perhaps the most valuable one I can ever teach you. Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all." 

In his anger, his brain had just reverted back to the old mantra, the one that had been hammered into him ever since childhood. Still he had kept on defying it. 

"If that's true, it's a lesson I'd rather not learn.", Bashir said, his eyes open and honest. 

For a second Garak just stared at him, his rage suddenly taking a step back. He wanted to say something, but had no idea what. Then the moment was interrupted by the door of the barrack they had arrived at again, opening with a mechanical sound. 

Martok stepped out. 

"I thought you might want to know, if you wish to speak to Tain... do it now, before it's too late." 

Garak looked at Bashir before he went into the dimly lit barrack, and the Doctor followed quietly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode is just so good, and the second part as well. I really enjoy expanding on it, even though at the moment it's not much yet, apart from Garak's inner monologue^^  
> I'm still thinking about what Tain might have told Bashir about Garak, or about anyhing in general. Interesting possibilities there.
> 
> Unfortunately the next chapter will be late since I'm going on holiday. If there are any comments I'll reply to them after I'm back home :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episodes are "In Purgatory's shadow" and "By Inferno's light", a lot of dialogue taken from the show

"Elim...", Tain asked when the automatic door closed behind them with a mechanical sound. "Elim, is that you?" 

Garak knelt beside the cot. "It's me.", he said. He was still angry, but kept his voice neutral. 

"Everything's gone dark.", Tain's eyes darted around the room without focus. "I can't see you. Are you alone?" 

Garak hesitated for a moment and turned his head towards Bashir, who sat on an empty cot behind him. 

"Yes", he said, looking directly at the Doctor. "There's no one else but you and me." 

"Surjak, Memad, Brun... they can't be trusted.", Tain said, "They must be dealt with." 

"I've already taken care of it.", Garak lied. 

"And what about Gul Vorlem? Were you able to contact him?" 

"Years ago.", Garak assured him. 

"The Romulan Ambassador?" 

"He's gone." 

Tain was apparently beginning to mix up events that had long since passed, with the present day. 

"All your enemies are dead.", Garak went on, with another small glance towards Bashir. 

"Good.", Tain said, "A man shouldn't allow his enemies to outlive him." 

"Then you can die happy.", the words tasted like bile on Garak's tongue, "Unless you still consider me your enemy." 

"Elim... promise me one thing.", Tain began. 

"I'm listening", Garak said sharply, almost grinding his teeth. 

"Don't die here.", Tain said, "Escape. Live." 

"Let me guess... so that I can make the Dominion pay for what they've done to you." 

"You wouldn't deny an old man his revenge, would you?", Tain asked, already knowing the answer. 

"I'll do as you ask", Garak said calmly, "on one condition: That you don't ask me this favor as a mentor or a superior officer... but as a father asking his son." 

It had cost Garak a lot to get the sentence out, it was probably the first time he had spoken of Tain as his father in his presence, or to anyone else but Mila. And now Bashir was here, listening to every word, because Garak had chosen him to be there. If Tain knew... 

"You're _not_ my son.", Tain was agitated. 

"Father...", Garak said, "Father, you're dying. For once in your life, speak the truth." 

Garak didn't know what he had been hoping for, but it was destroyed when Tain spoke up again. 

"I should have killed your mother before you were born. You have always been a weakness I can't afford." 

"So you've told me. Many times." 

That he could still feel frustration towards this man when Garak knew perfectly well what to expect, was a miracle. 

"Listen, Enabran...", Garak leaned down towards the toad-like face, "all I ask is that for this moment, let me be your son." 

He was aware of how pathetic it sounded, but Garak didn't care one bit. He had waited for this moment too long, for his whole life in fact. 

Tain took a few shaky breaths, then he said "Elim... remember that day in the country? You must have been almost five." 

"How can I forget it?", Garak asked, "It was the _only_ day." 

"I can still see you... on the back of that riding hound.", Tain's gaze was turned inward now. "You must've fallen off a dozen times. But you never gave up." 

"I remember limping home.", Garak said, "You held my hand." 

"I was very proud of you... that day." 

Tain's eyes slowly closed, all the facial muscles relaxing, just as if he was going to sleep. But there was no breath, his chest didn't move. 

For a few moments Garak just stared at the body that, just a few seconds ago, had belonged to Enabran Tain, leader of the Obsidian Order... his father. 

"Garak", the Doctor said softly behind him, both a question and sympathy in his voice. 

Garak got up and pulled the sheet over Tain's face. 

That was when Martok and Worf entered the barrack. 

In a way Garak was grateful they had arrived, because it meant he wouldn't have to deal with his emotions right now, and possibly Bashir's questions. 

He turned towards them and said "Gentlemen, I don't know about you... but my business here is done." 

"Then I suggest we find a way out of here.", Worf said. 

All nodded in agreement. 

The Doctor gave Garak a sideways glance before he said "We need someone to stand watch before we can begin to lay out a plan, wouldn't want the Jem'Hadar walking in unexpectedly." 

Again there was agreement and the Romulan woman, who was apparently deemed trustworthy by Martok and Bashir, joined them. 

"All clear", she said when she had taken position in front of the doors, which had small metal-grilled windows. 

"The transmitter Tain used to contact the station, where is it?", Worf asked Martok. 

The General gave Bashir nod, who went towards one of the cots, reached under the mattress and pulled out an angled metal object. Then both Martok and the Doctor pushed the cot away from the wall. Bashir went to work on a small triangular wall-panel and loosened it. He reached through the resulting hole and used it to push out a bigger panel at the bottom from the inside. 

"You have to crawl through that hole", he explained, "and kind of slide your way up into the wall." 

"It took him over a year to modify the old life-support system into a transmitter.", Martok said. 

Garak could hardly believe that Tain would've fit into this crawlspace, but obviously he had somehow managed. 

"How did he operate it?", Worf asked. 

"He wired the message and the transmission coordinates directly into the system's circuitry. That way, all he had to do was connect the transmitter to the power grid and let it run.", Martok answered. 

"Could the coordinates and the message be changed?" 

"You're planning to contact the runabout.", Garak answered Worf's question, going towards the hole in the wall that loomed ominously, and inspecting it. 

"We could activate the transporter and beam ourselves onto the ship.", Worf said. 

"And run like hell.", Bashir commented. 

Garak only heard them through a haze, his brain was generating some kind of white noise. He was still staring into the darkness. 

"Re-encoding the transmitter won't be easy.", he said, trying to shake this creeping uneasiness. "We'd have to reconfigure the array one circuit at a time." 

"Can you do it?", the Doctor asked. 

"Me?", Garak turned around. 

Bashir shrugged "I'm no engineer. Neither is Mr Worf here. You, on the other hand, my dear Mr Garak, are a man of many hidden talents." 

Any other time Garak would've appreciated the confidence the Doctor was placing in him, but right now he'd very much like to strangle him a bit. 

Instead he commented with a scoff. 

"If you can't do it nobody can.", Bashir went on. 

"It's nice to feel needed.", Garak said, turning towards the darkness again and feeling it seep into his body. 

A loud beeping sound ripped him from his thoughts. 

"All prisoners assemble immediately.", a disembodied Jem'Hadar voice ordered. "I repeat: All prisoners assemble immediately." 

They all went outside into the compound, not before closing up the wall again carefully, of course. 

When the prisoners had gathered, a Vorta, escorted by Jem'Hadar soldiers, stepped in front of them. 

"Who is that?", Worf asked Martok. 

"Deyos. The Vorta that runs this camp.", Martok murmured back, but one of the soldiers reprimanded them for talking before he could say more. 

"Touchy, aren't they?", Bashir whispered towards Garak, who was standing beside him. 

"All Cardassian prisoners step forward.", the Vorta called. 

Garak's stomach tightened, uneasy he looked around. There were a few other Cardassians who did the same before hesitantly taking a step forward. Garak did so as well. 

"I am pleased to announce", Deyos went on, "that hostilities between our peoples have ended. As of today, Cardassia has joined the Dominion. Therefore, you're all being sent home. Congratulations on your new status as Dominion citizens." 

Garak could hardly believe what he was hearing. Slowly he turned around and exchanged a quick look with the Doctor, who motioned for him to go. Garak nodded, still stunned. 

Then he walked forward, but was soon stopped by the Vorta. 

"Not you, Mr Garak." 

"Excuse me?", Garak asked. 

"You're staying.", Deyos said, not without sadistic pleasure in his voice. 

"Well, there must be some misunderstanding.", Garak protested, "The last time I checked, I _was_ a Cardassian." 

"But not a very popular one, I'm afraid. At least not with the head of the new Cardassian government." 

Ah. 

"And who would that be?", Garak asked with a nagging suspicion. 

"Gul Dukat.", the Vorta said. 

Garak could hear gasps behind him and he felt very much the same. 

How had he done it? Just how had Dukat, the Gul fallen from grace, managed this coup? 

Deyos smiled at him menacingly, then turned around and went back to where he had come from. 

Garak joined his group again. 

"Dukat", Worf growled, making the name sound like a curse. 

"Indeed.", Garak said, sharing the sentiment. 

"With this new development, I think we should hurry our plans for escape.", Bashir whispered. 

"Not right now.", Martok answered equally quiet, subtly inclining his head towards the barrack where a few soldiers just entered through the doors. "We should spend some time in the compound and enter the barrack separately once they're gone." 

All nodded in agreement. 

The Doctor put a soft hand on Garak's arm and they separated from the group, walking in a loose circle around the compound. 

"Garak...", Bashir asked after a while, "are you all right?" 

Garak sighed. "Please, Doctor, could we talk about this at another time? There are more pressing matters at stake right now than my frame of mind." 

"I thought you'd say that.", Bashir lifted one corner of his mouth, but the usual humor was missing. "Just so you know, if you change your mind... I'm here. Where else would I go." 

Garak gave him a small smile. "I appreciate the offer. Though I imagine having been incarcerated here for over a month must've taken a toll on your mental state as well." 

The Doctor looked uncomfortable at the mention of the time that had passed. 

"Let's just say the Jem'Hadar aren't the most reasonable people when it comes to treatment of prisoners.", there was bitterness in his voice. 

"Is that why you were in solitary confinement when Mr Worf and I arrived?", Garak asked. 

"I guess. You know about the training fights with the prisoners?" 

Garak nodded. 

"Well, one of the soldiers was fighting a young Romulan. It wasn't exactly an equal match and the Romulan was soon on the ground. But the Jem'Hadar didn't stop, he just kept beating and kicking him to a pulp.", Bashir was clenching his fists while talking, "Nobody did anything." 

"So you decided to do something.", Garak finished for him. 

The Doctor nodded. 

"You can be glad they only put you in solitary confinement.", Garak said, "They could've done much worse to you.", his brain went through multiple possibilities and a cold shudder ran down his back. 

Bashir didn't reply. 

For a while they just walked, but Garak could see that the Doctor struggled to keep himself from asking about Tain. Instead he decided to ask a question Garak had dreaded. 

"So... what's my doppelganger like?" 

Garak thought for a moment and then, quite uncharacteristically, opted for the truth. 

"Very convincing." 

He shuddered inwardly at the memory of conversations and shared meals he'd apparently had with a Changeling. 

Bashir had obviously expected a more elaborate answer, a full explanation of what had given the imposter away and that Garak had of course suspected that something was up. 

"Well, if he fooled you, he must be.", the Doctor said, casting his gaze around the compound, unfocused. 

Garak bit his lip. The guilt was overwhelming. 

He should've paid better attention instead of wallowing in his own misery. There must've been a clue somewhere, a tiny thing that could've exposed the Shapeshifter. What a sorry excuse for a spy he was! 

But what he could do now was get them all out of here, out of this place. He would do it, claustrophobia be damned. 

"We should get back to the barrack.", he said, "I think the others are already in and we don't have any time to lose." 

He had been right, when they entered the sleeping quarters, Martok, Worf and the Romulan woman were already there. As well as another Romulan who also seemed to belong to Martok's little circle.Tain's body had been removed by the Jem'Hadar, and Garak was relieved he didn't have to witness it. He needed to focus on the upcoming task, it would use a lot of his strength. 

After having been in the crawlspace for half an eternity, Garak wasn't so sure anymore it had been a good idea. From the general direction of the hole that led back out of the wall he heard the muted voices of their little group, then a little louder, the Doctor's voice. 

"Garak, how's it coming along?" 

"I only wish I were still a member of the Obsidian Order.", he gave back, "This would make a wonderful interrogation chamber." 

Suddenly a wire he'd been working on sparked and he flinched. 

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and then went on. "Tight quarters. No air, bad lighting, random electric shocks. It's perfect." 

"Sounds like you're enjoying yourself.", Bashir said, a smile in his voice. 

"If you'd like, I'd happily trade places with you.", Garak replied, half hoping the Doctor would take him up on the offer, but knowing it was impossible. 

"I suppose you could give me a crash course in Cardassian field engineering. I should be ready to take over from you in what? Five or six weeks?" 

The verbal sparring helped a little to keep Garak's nerves down, but then there was hushed commotion. 

"Quiet!", Bashir said urgently before Garak could hear the wall panels being fastened. He swallowed hard. 

It was probably just a few moments, only muffled noises, but to Garak it felt a lot longer before he could hear the Doctor's voice again, saying "Hold on, Garak." 

He exhaled in relief, but then Bashir continued "Just a little while longer, Garak." 

So he waited, heart pounding. 

Finally the panels clicked and as soon as they were removed, Garak climbed out of the hole as quickly as he could. 

"Oh, _that_ was thoroughly unpleasant.", he complained. 

Bashir helped him up. "Are you all right?" 

"I am fine.", Garak assured him, a little too vehemently. "It's just much hotter in there than I thought. I got a little light-headed. Give me a minute and I'll go back in there." 

The Doctor placed a hand to the side of Garak's face, feeling for a vein. 

"No, you need more than a minute. Your pulse is racing. I don't want to think about your blood pressure. Maybe you should wait until tomorrow." 

"Do you want to get off this hellhole?", Garak yelled, annoyed at Bashir's fussing. 

"You _know_ I do.", the Doctor yelled back. 

"Then let me get back to work." 

Garak didn't really know who or what his anger was directed at, did it even matter? The only thing that mattered was getting them all back to Deep Space Nine. 

"Rest.", Bashir insisted, his face tolerated no protest. "For five minutes, and from here on in, you can take a 15-minute break every hour. Doctor's orders." 

Garak gave in, nodded and did as he was told. 

Worf had been summoned for a fighting session it turned out, and all the time Garak took to rest, he didn't return. 

When Garak climbed into the wall again, Bashir eyed him warily, and he made sure not to let the Doctor see that his hands were shaking slightly. 

Focusing on the work was the only thing he could do, everything depended on him now. 

If only the air wasn't so stuffy, he couldn't breathe properly. And now the tiny lamp, the only source of light he had, started to flicker. 

"I'm sorry, but that's absolutely unacceptable.", he told it, "I'm under enough strain as it is. I can't have you quitting on me." 

Then the absurdity of what he had just done hit him. 

"Get a hold of yourself, Garak.", he said to himself, also out loud. "After all, you haven't had one of these attacks in years. Yes, this is a tight, enclosed space. Yes, there's not a lot of room to move. But a disciplined mind does not allow itself to be sidetracked by niggling psychological disorders like... claustrophobia." 

He had hoped that saying it out loud, even if it was only for himself to hear, would shame his body into cooperating. The effect didn't set in. 

"Besides, this isn't like Tzenketh.", he went on, "The walls won't collapse in on you. Your friends are nearby. There's plenty of air. So there's nothing to be concerned about." 

Bringing up those particular memories hadn't been the best move. 

"Focus on the job.", he whispered, "You're the only person who can contact the runabout. People are depending on you. Ziyal is depending on you. You promised her you'd come back, and that young lady has had quite enough disappointments in her life without you adding to them. So... control yourself." 

What he couldn't bring himself to say was that he didn't want the Doctor to see him in such a state, a panicky mess. 

"You're _stronger_ than this.", he assured himself, "A disciplined mind... " 

And then, without warning, the light died. 

Complete and utter darkness surrounded Garak. Where was the way out? He couldn't see, the blackness was like a mass, creeping into him through his mouth with every breath, through his nose and laying itself over his eyes like a veil. 

The panic rose in his stomach, without the light keeping it at bay he wasn't strong enough to hold it back. The wave crashed over him, he needed to get out, _now_! 

But there was only solid wall everywhere his shaking hands could reach. He was surrounded. 

No! No, he needed to get out! 

He banged his fists against his unforgiving prison, maybe it would yield. Desperately he clawed at the metal, still hammering mercilessly. 

From somewhere he could hear voices, but the words had no meaning, his mind was running. The same thing over and over: Out! 

Suddenly someone was next to him. "Garak!", the person said and he vaguely recognized Bashir. 

"The light...", Garak pressed the words out of his throat, "the light went out." 

"I know", the Doctor whispered soothingly, "Come on, I think you can take your break a little early." 

Garak was taken by the shoulder and somehow maneuvered out. The next thing he knew was that he lay on his cot, face turned towards the wall but not really seeing it. 

Distantly he heard Bashir's voice, as if it was coming from another room, although he knew that wasn't the case. 

"Rest.", he said, then apparently turning towards the others, "It would appear that he suffers from an acute form of claustrophobia. It's a wonder that he lasted as long as he did." 

Garak wanted to hear none of this. 

"Then one of us will have to finish reconfiguring the transmitter.", Worf said matter-of-factly. 

"And who would you suggest could do that?", the Doctor asked, then answering his own question, "Exactly." 

"If Garak can't contact the runabout, we're not going anywhere.", Martok said. 

Garak closed his eyes, the panic-attack had left him feeling weird and very tired. Sleep came more easily than expected, and Garak greeted unconsciousness with open arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, but now I'm in the groove again^^  
> Poor Garak has to suffer, but what else is new^^   
> I could only wedge a little Garak/Bashir interaction into this where they're alone, the events of the episodes are very tightly packed.   
> The revelation that Tain is Garak's father has hit Bashir a lot harder than he lets on now, cause there isn't really time, but rest assured it will be explored once they're on DS9 again. Especially cause the very next episode is "Doctor Bashir I presume" and the theme of family, especially fathers, is practically unavoidable.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "By Inferno's light", some dialogue taken from the show

In the night, Garak woke. He assumed it was nighttime because all the lamps in the barrack had been switched off. It wasn't completely dark though, through the windows in the doors fell a sliver of light that made it possible to distinguish shapes from the blackness. 

Around him, he heard muffled breathing from the other cots, the sound of sleep. 

Martok snored lightly. 

But that wasn't what had woken Garak. 

A light touch at his neck, two fingers staying, then an audible exhale. 

Garak pretended to still be asleep, and the Doctor didn't seem to notice. He had checked for Garak's pulse, which was apparently in normal parameters again. 

The hand lingered for a while, and the thumb stroked along Garak's jaw before it was removed. 

Some rustling, and Bashir settled onto his own cot again, which Garak realized was the one next to his. They lay head to head. 

Garak could still feel the warm touch. A small comfort. He closed his eyes again, the exhaustion wasn't gone yet. Somehow it was good to know Bashir was there, right next to him, he could just reach out if he wanted to. But Garak didn't want to think about all the complexities _that_ would involve, he just enjoyed the feeling and drifted back off to sleep. 

His eyes opened again when Worf, flanked by Bashir and Martok, returned from another session of training fights. 

"Seven battles and seven victories.", Martok bellowed, "What hero of legend could have done as well?" 

"Heroes of legends don't ache so much.", Worf winced when he slumped onto one of the cots. 

Martok just chuckled. "Your Federation friends have taught you modesty, but this is no time for modesty. When we return to the Klingon Empire, I will seek out Keedera himself and tell him of your glorious tale. He will write a song worthy of you." 

"Well, be sure to send me a copy.", the Doctor said, presumably while tending to Worf's injuries. Garak couldn't see, since his face was turned to the wall. 

"I'll do better than that.", Martok said, "I can make sure that he mentions you. The healer that bound the warrior's wounds, so he could fight again." 

"Right now, the only part of the song that I wish to hear is the verse that tells of our escape.", Worf retorted, "What good is defeating every Jem'Hadar soldier in this compound if it does not bring us closer to our freedom?" 

"We have to come up with a new escape plan.", Bashir said. 

Garak took this as a cue to speak up. 

"That won't be necessary." 

He sat up and turned to the group. "The original one will work. I just have to finish what I started. After all, a verse about the Cardassian who panicked in the face of danger would ruin General Martok's song." 

"That would be unfortunate.", Martok commented with a grin. 

Garak smiled, despite the thought of entering the crawlspace again. "Now, if you'll excuse me... my dungeon awaits." 

Bashir looked at him with sympathy before removing the wall panels. Everyone took their places. 

"There is no greater enemy than one's own fears.", Garak heard Martok whisper to Worf. 

"It takes a brave man to face them.", Worf answered. 

It was a small comfort to know that Garak had apparently won the respect of the two Klingons, but the task before him was still daunting. 

This time, the light decided to cooperate, not even flickering in the slightest. Deep breaths, and then Garak went to work. 

He lost track of time quickly, every minute felt like twice the amount. 

After Worf was summoned for another match, he took his first break. Routinely, Bashir checked Garak's pulse. He frowned, but didn't say anything. Apparently health needed to take a backseat until they were out of this camp. 

The Breen, who hadn't yet exchanged a word with them, sat on his cot. Garak couldn't make out if he was watching them or not, the suit made it impossible. 

The Doctor reached under the mattress, where he also kept the angled tool, and produced some of the food ration he had apparently saved. He placed the rest of the bar in Garak's hand. 

"You need the strength, the way your heart is going." 

Garak didn't have the nerve to protest, he nodded. "Thank you, Doctor." 

The rest of his break he spent nibbling on the ration bar, noone in the barrack felt much like talking. When it was time again, Bashir put a hand on Garak's shoulder, squeezing it. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then the moment passed, and Garak crawled into the wall. 

The work was coming along nicely, though he couldn't tell when exactly it would be done. Didn't make the space anymore tolerable though. 

"Tain, I don't know if you can hear me.", he said into the dimly lit space, "But if you can, I just want you to know you may not have been much of a father, but I _really_ wish you were alive right now. That way, you could be in here instead of me." 

No answer, but Garak hadn't expected one. 

Instead he got the knocking sign they had agreed on, to signal that Jem'Hadar were approaching and he needed to stay where he was. 

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply. 

It wasn't long before he heard the soldier's voices. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but their tone wasn't promising. 

Garak decided to keep on working, quietly. What else could he do? 

Then one of the Jem'Hadar spoke very closely to the wall. Too close. 

"... you'll allow me...?" 

Then there was scratching, the same he heard when the wall-panels were being removed. He turned off the lamp. In the darkness he kept on working by touch. 

"I see nothing. It's dark." 

Garak heard the Jem'Hadar perfectly clear. He must be inside the crawlspace. 

Then a pause, and shortly after phaser-fire and the noise of a fight. His heart almost leapt out of his chest. Were the soldiers killing them? Were they killing Julian? 

Some kind of crash, then silence again. 

"My people have a saying:", he heard the Romulan woman say, and sighed a breath of relief, "Never turn your back on a Breen.", Bashir chuckled in answer. 

"Doctor, would you keep the noise down?", Garak called, "I'm trying to work in here." 

It was said as much to reassure himself, as it was said to not let Bashir know how genuinely frightened Garak had been. 

"Garak", the Doctor called, "how many transtator circuits have you got left?" 

"Three." 

"Well, work fast", Bashir said, "because pretty soon we're gonna be up to our necks in Jem'Hadar." 

Perfect. Even more pressure. 

Though Garak was confident he could do it. It just stood to hope that the Jem'Hadar weren't so quick to notice some of their soldiers had gone missing. 

With the last remnants of willpower he commanded his hands to stop shaking and work calmly and steady. The mental clock in the back of his head ticked merciless. 

Finally he reached the last circuit, then the connection was established. Entering their data took mere seconds. 

"Got it!", he uttered triumphantly and the next moment he felt the familiar sensation of being transported. 

Once he stood in the comparatively roomy interior of the runabout, Garak could feel his body relax. But there was no time to lose. 

While the others appeared, he entered a route back to Deep Space Nine into the computer. 

"Take him to one of the cabins in the back.", Bashir said to Martok, meaning Worf, who looked like one big bruise personified. "I'll be with you as soon as I can." 

The Jem'Hadar must've been particularly hard on him. 

But before he went to the back, Worf spoke up: "Garak." 

Garak turned around, surprised. 

"You did well." 

Garak looked at the blood running down the side of the Klingon's face. "So did you." 

There was an understanding between the two of them, they nodded. 

"Take us to maximum warp, Garak.", the Doctor said, and Garak turned towards the console again. "We've got to get a message to the station." 

He did, and the more distance they put between the asteroid and the runabout, the more relaxed everyone seemed to feel. They had made it. 

Bashir sent his message to the station and then slumped into the seat next to Garak at the helm. He closed his eyes and sighed. 

"We're going home.", he murmured happily. 

Garak smiled fondly. He was far from wanting to destroy this moment of contentedness, but... 

"Doctor, may I remind you that you have a patient waiting for you?" 

Bashir's eyes flew open again. 

"Oh, damn!", he scrambled to his feet. "Thanks, Garak.", and off he went to dress the warrior's wounds. 

Garak wondered if General Martok would really commission a song about their adventure. 

Nobody followed them, and their journey back to Deep Space Nine ran smoothly. 

At the airlock they were greeted by Captain Sisko himself, filling them in on what they had apparently missed. The Bashir-doppelgaenger had been eliminated. At this piece of information, Garak felt the Doctor sigh in relief. 

When everything was said, and it was clear everyone would be going about their business, Bashir touched Garak on the arm. 

"Um, Garak?", he hesitated for a second, " When I've brought Mr Worf to the infirmary, would you... well, I thought you might be hungry too, we could meet in my quarters. But if you'd rather be alone now, I understand." 

"No, I'd like that.", Garak said with a smile and the Doctor's face lit up as well. "...But first I have a promise to keep.", he was thinking of Ziyal. He couldn't keep her waiting, she didn't deserve that. 

Bashir's smile faltered. 

"We could meet up later if that is fine with you?", Garak asked hopefully, but he had a nagging feeling he had just broken something very delicate. 

"Oh just... never mind.", Bashir waved the idea away, smile back up. "We can do that another time, I mean, lunch is still a thing?" 

"Of course.", Garak nodded. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but it must've been significant, at least in the Doctor's mind. 

Bashir was already busy bustling over to Worf, Doctor-mode on, waving goodbye to Garak on their way to the infirmary. 

For a moment Garak stared after them, then he made his way to the nearest computer-panel. 

"Computer, locate Tora Ziyal." 

"Tora Ziyal is in Quark's bar." 

So that was where he went. 

She was sitting at the bar, staring into her drink forlornly when he entered. 

"Ziyal?" 

Her head flew round and she got up. 

"I told you I'd be back.", he said. 

Instead of saying something she just gasped a sound of happiness, pulled him into a tight embrace and placed a kiss on his cheek. She really had some temperament. 

"I never doubted it.", she sighed against his shoulder. 

As much as he enjoyed having someone react so enthusiastically at his mere presence, he needed to be careful. If he let this run as it was, he would end up in over his head, and breaking her heart. But for the moment, he was just happy that she was happy. Anything else he would deal with later. 

Especially concering Bashir's strange behaviour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one this time. I had a bit of trouble telling how long they stayed in the prison camp, since there are no obvious day/night cuts. So I kept it kinda vague as well, apart from the beginning of this chapter where it's night.  
> In the episode it's a bit weird cause seemingly Garak has been in the same position on his cot ever since his panic attack, but Worf has been called in again for fighting. Doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but since they cut to the station-plot in the meantime, you don't really notice while watching.  
> Another thing that's weird to me is that, apparently Julian was allowed to keep his med kit? Seems strange, although maybe the Jem'Hadar removed everything that could be used as a weapon beforehand? Didn't do a very good job all around though, cause otherwise they would've found the tool to remove the wall panels earlier.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Referenced episode is "Doctor Bashir I presume?"

He was fine. 

He really was fine. There were no new nightmares, no throwbacks to his childhood, nothing out of the ordinary. 

Garak felt relieved, but also puzzled that his mind had apparently handled the stress of the Jem'Hadar prison camp so well. And of course Tain's death. 

Seeing his father die, and then having no time to process it immediately after, should have caused him more problems. Maybe it made a difference that he had believed him to be dead before, or because he had finally admitted to himself what an awful person Enabran Tain really had been. 

It was cathartic to know he would never fall prey to that siren song again, the one pulling him down whenever he just got his head above water. Perhaps now he could finally learn to swim. 

But of course Tain wasn't to blame for everything Garak had ever done. His role in the Obsidian Order, he had fulfilled with eagerness and pride. 

The here and now was different though. His life on Deep Space Nine was much smaller, and now that the biggest link to his old self was gone, he could finally see that he himself had changed. He would never fit into the Order again, and to his surprise, he hadn't wanted to for quite some time. 

Though the longing for his home planet was still there, for the company of other Cardassians. 

Ziyal made it easier, even though she didn't know as much about Cardassia as he did. 

Ziyal, who had defied her father's wishes to stay on the station and wait for him. 

Garak hadn't been the only one to belatedly realize his father wasn't everything he thought he was. It had been quite a shock to her system, poor thing. Now Dukat was the new leader of the Cardassian Empire, and she the outcast daughter, the one who brought shame on the family. What an insane concept when Skrain Dukat was the one who had made a pact with the Dominion. 

Guilt was becoming a heavy burden these days for Garak. First his unforgivable lack of attention that led to a Changeling impersonating Bashir for a month without him even thinking twice about it. And now Ziyal, who had given up her father's good grace for him. She had nothing now, no place to go, except this station. Just like him. 

Her art seemingly gave her refuge and she plunged herself into the work head first. She was carving her own way, apart from her father and what he saw in her. 

It was good for her, Garak thought, and encouraged her whenever she showed him sketches or a new painting. 

The Doctor was another matter. 

Garak was glad to see that the avoidance and the excuses not to have lunch with him, had entirely come from the Changeling. Bashir happily picked up their routine again, although there was a general tension, maybe even sadness. 

It was only natural that the Doctor would find it hard to just go from a month spent in a prison camp, to his daily routine on the station, but there was something else bothering him. 

Garak suspected what really nagged at Bashir was the matter that nobody had suspected he wasn't himself. That someone had managed to imitate him so perfectly, none of his closest friends had noticed. 

"Miles only said the Changeling was easier to get along with.", the Doctor had said at their first lunch after their return, with a grimace at the misplaced joke. "I know he doesn't like to talk about these kind of... things", he gestured vaguely, "but I expected a little more." 

Garak nodded, shame sitting in his stomach like a rock. He avoided Bashir's gaze when he said "If it is any comfort to you, I didn't find him easy to get along with at all. On the contrary, he used every opportunity not to have lunch with me." 

The Doctor gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Garak." 

But Garak wasn't convinced it had helped at all. 

When he asked about the invitation to Bashir's quarters after their return, the Doctor dismissed it again. 

"I was just a bit keyed up, I guess, and I didn't like the idea of being alone in my quarters. But it was silly, really. Security had already done a scan for hidden devices and everything was still in its place. I took a shower and then immediately fell into bed. Slept for twelve hours straight.", he grinned, "I wouldn't have been much company, so it worked out fine." 

He was clearly lying, but Garak wasn't sure if calling him out on it would improve the situation or make him clamp up completely. 

Garak decided to leave it alone for now, an opportunity to address it would present itself sooner or later. 

Two or three weeks went by and the Doctor's mood seemed to improve as he picked up his daily routines again. 

Then a Doctor Zimmerman arrived on the station. 

He was the inventor of the EMH-programme, the short-term holographic doctor, and had decided to work on a long-term version for this programme. For which he had chosen Bashir as a model. 

Bashir was quite excited about it, raving on and on what an honour it was to have been chosen. 

Garak was pleased for him, even more so when the Doctor asked him to do an interview with Zimmerman about him. 

"He's cataloguing my character through the eyes of the people closest to me.", Bashir said. 

"I'm glad I can be of service.", Garak smiled amiably, trying not to let on how happy it made him to be considered one of the people closest to the Doctor. 

"Will he interview your family as well then?", he asked conversationally. 

Immediately Bashir tensed up. 

He shook his head. "No, the way would be too long, I wouldn't want to bother them with it. I'm sure the data from the people here on the station is more than enough.", his smile was a bit shaky. 

That was strange. 

"But you said yourself it is a great honour.", Garak objected, "I'm sure your parents are very proud and would be willing to make time for something as important as this." 

"They're very busy.", Bashir said, and that was the end of it. 

So when a few days later the news reached Garak that a Mr and Mrs Bashir had arrived on the station, he was more than curious. 

He didn't get to see, or find out anything about them for a while though. First he was asked for his interview. 

"What was your first impression of Doctor Bashir?", Zimmerman asked. A strange man, not very likable, Garak thought, always wearing an overly serious expression. 

"Well", Garak answered and settled in his chair, "We first met in the Replimat shortly after all the Starfleet personnel arrived, I approached him actually. I'm always keen to meet interesting new people -", there he got cut off very rudely by Doctor Zimmerman. 

He held up a hand. "Please, no exposition, keep your answer as precise as possible." 

"...certainly, Doctor.", Garak smiled thinly with a hint of menace. Maybe he would plan a nice surprise for the good Doctor Zimmerman. 

"I thought he was very bright.", Garak went on, "Talkative, ambitious. Open-minded. Is that precise enough?" 

Zimmerman nodded without looking up from his padd where he was taking notes. 

"When you say open-minded, what exactly are you referring to?" 

Garak thought for a moment. "Doctor Bashir isn't someone to easily judge, although he has a strong moral compass. He's on good terms with most people here on the station, no matter who." 

"Do you think that is why he's friends with you?" 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"I'm not too familiar with the political situation, but I'm assuming life can't be easy for a Cardassian on a Bajoran space station these days.", Zimmerman said looking up from his padd. "There must be a lot of mistrust against you." 

Garak fought hard to control himself. 

"If you are implying that Doctor Bashir merely spends time with me out of _pity_ , I'd like to remind you that I said _I_ approached _him_ , before you, Doctor Zimmerman, interrupted me." 

Zimmerman seemed unfazed, scribbling on his damned padd. 

"Alright, so what do you two talk about usually?" 

"Literature mostly", Garak answered, willing his voice to be calm, "Cardassian and Human. The Doctor usually has some interesting opinions, which I don't always share, but I find it enjoyable to discuss them." 

Zimmermand nodded "Mhmm, yes I can use that.", he mumbled to himself, writing at the same time. Then towards Garak again: "Any negative sides?" 

"As I said, a strong moral compass, which sometimes seems to override his sense of self-preservation." 

"Can you elaborate on that?" 

"Well", Garak said, "he once spent several weeks on a planet in the Gamma Quadrant that was plagued by a disease, causing the people living there a very painful death. He refused to leave before he had found a cure, even though most residents were hostile towards him." 

Zimmerman nodded. "Anything else? Most other people I've interviewed seemed to think he talks too much." 

"Oh?", Garak asked, "I found him to be an excellent conversational partner." 

"Interesting.", Zimmerman commented with raised eyebrows. When he had finished scribbling, he said "I think I've heard enough, thank you for your time Mr Garak.", and with that, Garak was dismissed. 

He was still fuming internally that Doctor Zimmerman had dared to call him a charity case, when he left the office. Someone Bashir had taken pity on. 

It _hurt_ , Garak realized with some puzzlement. He wasn't just outraged at the audacity of Zimmerman to imply something like that, deep deep down he was afraid that it might be true. 

Bashir may not be as direct as the Changeling had been, but maybe he had really tired of Garak's company. 

Then Garak remembered the invitation to the Doctor's quarters. Would someone who had tired of him do that? 

Another thought crossed his mind, unpleasant, burrowing into his brain and taking root. What if Bashir had wanted to tell him that he didn't want to continue their lunches? But then had thought better of it, not wanting to be cruel. Taking _pity_ on the Cardassian exile. 

Was that the reason he had been so short on the topic of his parents? He'd said they would be too busy to visit, but clearly that wasn't the case since they were here now. 

Garak's thoughts raced around in circles. 

Perhaps Zimmerman knew something. Had Bashir said something to him, causing him to believe Bashir felt only sympathy for Garak? 

'The Cardassian tailor?', a sneering Doctor Bashir asked inside Garak's head, 'oh he's just someone I see occasionally. He doesn't have anyone, poor thing, so I let him prattle on about books and his days as a spymaster.', the fictional Doctor put the word spymaster in air quotes and then laughed heartily. 

Garak shook his head, he was probably overreacting. What he needed was a quiet evening, a good book and maybe some music. 

The plan being set, he went straight to his quarters. Tomorrow he could still investigate about Bashir's parents, after he had slept on the whole matter and his brain would've had time to cool down. 

The book was quickly decided on, a new Enigma Tale by an up and coming young author he had obtained before the adventure in the prison camp, and hadn't gotten the chance to start on yet. For that, Garak wanted some atmosphere. He had just the right collection of classical pieces, dark and mysterious sounding, music for a foggy night in the wrong part of town. If only he could find the data rod. 

He went through several drawers but didn't spot what he was looking for. In one of them he came upon an unlabeled rod and furrowed his eyeridges. Usually he titled all of his books, music and holoprogrammes meticulously. 

He fed it into the computer and suddenly Doctor Bashir's voice rang through the room. 

"Elim, you told me last night that there hasn't been any good music for the last 500 years. Well, I beg to disagree, that's why I'm giving you some of my favourite modern songs, in the hope that you'll change your mind. But of course I know you won't.", there was a short laugh, more of a giggle, "Still, enjoy!", then the first song started. 

Garak's heart had jumped in surprise. He had completely forgotten about the data rod that Bashir had given to him during their... well. 

He opened his mouth to tell the computer to shut the music off, but then he closed it again. Slowly he sank on the sofa, book completely forgotten. 

He still didn't like most of the songs in the collection, though some of them weren't that horrible on a second listen. Garak skipped through them, mostly to avoid hearing Bashir's accompanying commentary. 

Then he arrived at the one simply saying: "This one is a little older but it made me think of you." 

Garak felt a little sting in his chest at hearing this. It had been years, he realized. 

The first few notes of the song echoed through the room. When he had first heard it, he had classified it as an upbeat number, but now he sensed a sort of melancholy in the singer's voice. 

He had meant to ask the Doctor about this song, once upon a time, but then things happened... 

"Computer", Garak said, "identify title of this song." 

The computer beeped and then answered, "The song currently playing is 'Little Lies' by the band 'Fleetwood Mac' from Earth. They were popular in the late 20th century." 

Little lies. Garak shouldn't be surprised that a song with that title would be associated with him. He openly prided himself on never telling the truth when a lie would do. But somehow, coming from Bashir it didn't sit right with him. 

"Computer, display and translate song lyrics." 

He walked over to the computer panel and scanned over the song text. 

_'If I could turn the page_

_In time then I'd rearrange just a day or two_

_Close my, close my, close my eyes_

_But I couldn't find a way_

_So I'll settle for one day to believe in you_

_Tell me, tell me, tell me lies_

_  
_

_Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies_

__

__

_Tell me lies_

__

__

_Tell me, tell me lies_

__

__

_Oh no-no, you can't disguise_

__

__

_You can't disguise_

__

__

_No, you can't disguise_

__

__

_Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies'_

So he had been right, it was a melancholic, or sad song, shrouded in a happy melody. Not unfitting for a piece dealing with the topic of lying, he had to give the artist that. 

_'No more broken hearts_

_We're better off apart_

_Let's give it a try'_

A breakup song. So maybe it had all been doomed from the start. 

Garak was still lost in thought when his doorbell chimed, he almost flinched. 

"Computer, stop music." 

Silence. 

"Who is it?", he called. It wouldn't be Ziyal, she had never paid him a visit so late in the evening. 

"It's me...", came from the other side of the door, "Julian." 

For a moment Garak felt a little surreal, like he had somehow summoned the Doctor by thinking about him. He shook his head and made his way over to the door. 

When it opened, Bashir stood in the frame, kneading his hands nervously. 

"Doctor", Garak said, "what a nice surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"Um", Bashir began, he was clearly upset, "I really don't want to bother you, but I didn't know where... Maybe this was a bad idea.", he half-turned to go. 

"Come on in.", Garak said firmly. 

The Doctor flashed a relieved smile and did as he was told. 

They sat down on Garak's sofa, and when Bashir didn't start explaining on his own, Garak began: "What is it that's bothering you? I heard your parents arrived on the station, I'd thought you'd spend time with them?" 

Bashir flinched. "That's kind of the point. We had a... falling out. During dinner. In my quarters." 

Garak followed the train of thought. "And you left. So now you don't want to go back because they might still be there?" 

The Doctor nodded sheepishly. "Now that I'm hearing it out loud it sounds silly." 

Garak tried to hide a smile. "Not at all." 

"I sat in Quark's for a while, but... I couldn't hear my own thoughts in there. And I didn't want to bother Miles. Molly and the baby are probably asleep by now...", he trailed off. Then suddenly a worried look formed on his face, "Oh, I hope I'm not disturbing anything? Did you have plans?" 

"No, no.", Garak reassured him, "Just me and a good book. But that can wait." 

Bashir smiled. 

Then there was silence. 

"Do you want to talk about it?", Garak asked. 

"Not particularly, no.", the Doctor grimaced. Garak wondered what they had argued about. It couldn't be anything serious. Whenever he pictured Bashir's parents, he saw two smiling people, gazing at their son with pride. Picture-perfect. 

"Can we just talk like... we usually do?", Bashir asked. "If that's alright?" 

"Of course." 

The tension went out of the Doctor's shoulders and Garak realized just how distressed Bashir really was. Curiosity was rearing its head, maybe Garak had underestimated the Bashir family's potential for drama. But he had just agreed not to talk about the argument. Shame. 

Instead he asked, "So... have you heard about Ensign Eliar and that Edosian freighter captain, what was her name...?" 

The Doctor's eyes went wide, immediately taking the bait. "Captain Arix? No! Really?" 

Garak smirked, gossip was always good for a little diversion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, so you thought I had forgotten about the mixtape? Nope, here it is again, making Garak sad. OK, he does a pretty good job at that anyways without it, but shhh^^ (If you don't remember the mixtape, it's from chapter 8 of this fic)
> 
> I just love "Doctor Bashir I presume?", it's a really good episode. But it's kinda hilarious that Julian storms out of his own quarters after the fight with his parents. At least I think it's his quarters? I don't think they would have dinner in his parent's guest quarters, right?


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode referenced is "Doctor Bashir I presume"

They talked for hours, the conversation meandering easily here and there. Neither of them noticed how fast time was flying by, and both had soon forgotten why Bashir was actually there, in Garak's quarters. 

Tea morphed into Kanaar, and suddenly it was three in the morning. 

No matter what planet, and no matter what kind of day-night-rhythm, there was always a period of time when life came to a halt. When no sane person was still awake, and those who were, felt the silence like a heavy blanket. 

That period of time was usually three in the morning, Garak found. His quarters were quiet most of the time, but for a few hours they had been filled with chatter and laughter, now the silence was settling on them again. 

All the casual topics were used up, leaving only the things that really mattered. Those kinds of conversations were Garak's favourite, the ones starting with idle chit-chat and then step by step digging deeper. 

"How are you dealing with... you know, Tain dying?", Bashir asked. 

Garak had anticipated that question and answered it truthfully, "I'm fine." 

"Really.", he added after a look from the Doctor. "It's not like I haven't dealt with it before. It was highly unlikely that he survived the destruction of the fleet, I thought he was dead already before that message arrived." 

Bashir nodded slowly. "He was very good at surviving." 

A cold shiver ran down Garak's spine. The Doctor had been incarcerated in the camp for a month, in a confined space with Enabran Tain. 

"Did you ever talk to him... about me?", that question had been running through Garak's mind for weeks, but it had never been the right time. 

"He asked about you.", the Doctor said, "And he also told me some stories." 

Garak's heart stopped for a moment in terror. What kind of stories? 

But Bashir went on "He was so convinced that you would get the message and come to rescue him. I always wondered why he was so sure about it." 

He left a pause there and looked at Garak, who was suddenly very aware of how close they were sitting. 

"Why didn't you send me away when Tain was dying, Garak?" 

Garak took a moment before he answered, "I'm... not actually sure. Maybe I was still angry at Tain and wanted to one-up him by pretending it was just me in the room." 

The Doctor shook his head. "That doesn't sound very much like you. You did it on purpose, you wanted me to know." 

In any other situation Garak would've berated, and mercilessly teased Bashir for his cockyness, but now he just hesitated for a second before he said "Yes, I did." 

"Why?" 

"I thought you deserved to know after being confined with this... MAN for over a month. He couldn't have been very entertaining.", Garak tried for a spot of humor, but the Doctor didn't join in. 

"Why didn't you tell me before that he's... that he _was_ your father?" 

"What difference would it have made? There are so many things you don't know about me.", Garak asked. 

There was a strange kind of look in Bashir's eyes, one he had glimpsed before, in different situations. 

"It would've made _all_ the difference." 

Garak furrowed his eyeridges. "How exactly?" 

"Because...", the Doctor stopped abruptly, "No, it doesn't matter. Forget I said anything, it's your choice to tell me about your family or not. And I'm glad you did.", Bashir gave him a warm smile, but there was still that look in his eyes. 

Garak opened his mouth to inquire further, but was interrupted. 

"I better go now, I need to get up in a few hours for my shift." 

Garak closed his mouth slowly, then opened it again. "Of course", he said. The moment was gone and they were back to their old ways. 

At the door they said their goodbyes, confirming their next lunch appointment, and then Bashir was gone. 

Garak stood in front of the closed door for a few moments, wondering what exactly this visit had been all about. 

For such an open, honest man, Bashir could be truly puzzling at times. Now Garak definitely needed to find out more about his parents. There was something the Doctor was keeping back, and it itched Garak to find out what it was. 

The next day, Garak opened up his shop like usual. He was very tired although he had gone straight to sleep when his head hit the pillow. It wasn't just that he'd stayed up much later than usual, but his dreams had been quite dark and somehow disturbing. He only remembered long corridors, looking for someone. When he had woken up there was an intense feeling of relief that it had been only a dream. 

It was a slow morning, and Garak was grateful for it. Often his thoughts wandered to the night before and puzzling over Bashir and his mysterious parents. He would investigate in the computer database about them in the evening. 

Frustration crept up on him that he couldn't start now, but closing down his shop for the day wasn't an option. 

In the afternoon, business picked up slightly and there were several people browsing. Garak maneuvered swiftly between them, always ready for questions or keeping someone from a horrible fashion faux pas. 

That was when he overheard a conversation between two Bajoran women who were looking through the new dresses, one he recognized as a nurse. 

"... yeah, the Chief came in and asked for him. They left, and some time later I got a message that he was taking the day off, and probably tomorrow as well, without an explanation." 

"That sounds very unlike Doctor Bashir, maybe it's something to do with his parents? A family emergency?", the other woman asked. 

"You mean that one of them is sick? Could be, but that's not why they're here. They're here because of Doctor Zimmerman and the new holo-doctor." 

"Yeah, right. But didn't you tell me that Doctor Bashir asked Zimmerman not to contact his parents? And now they're here." 

"Hmm, that _is_ a bit suspicious." 

Garak couldn't hear more because they had wandered out of earshot, but once he had managed to get near them inconspicuously again, they had changed the topic towards the engineering job of the other woman. 

Garak's brain bristled with questions. But how could he get an answer? He needed to be patient. Closing down the shop now would only raise suspicion. Garak wasn't the only one attuned to station gossip. Word had almost certainly reached Odo as well and if Garak were to go spying on Bashir or his parents now, he would surely be caught red-handed. 

Finally closing time arrived and Garak all but shoved the last dawdling customers out of the door with a toothy smile and a "Plenty of time for browsing _tomorrow_." 

Then he hurried back to his quarters, consulting the computer. 

Bashir was in his quarters and had apparently been there for most of the day. His parents were located in their guest quarters. Not ideal circumstances for a spy. 

So he hacked into several Federation databanks. 

There wasn't a lot to tell about Richard and Amsha Bashir. They had apparently met very young and gotten married shortly after. 

Richard Bashir had collected quite an array of occupations, ranging from steward on a shuttle run, to a minor diplomatic role. Now he apparently occupied his time with landscape architecture. Garak looked at a few of the drawings he found in the databank, they weren't to his taste. 

Amsha seemed to go wherever her husband found his newest job. The most stationary they had been, was during their son's childhood. Although they had made a very big move when Julian must've been about seven. 

Julian Bashir had of course been a very bright child, every school record Garak could find was a wave of praise for this 'very gifted young man'. One thing was strange though, all the early records named him as 'Jules Bashir', although it was clearly the same person. Until Medical School, where he was listed as Julian Bashir. 

Maybe an adolescent attempt on his part to detach himself from childhood? That was something Julian Bashir would definitely do, Garak thought with a smile. 

But apart from that they seemed like a perfectly normal family. 

Garak was a bit disappointed, although not surprised, what had he hoped to uncover? Some dark hideous secret? No, that was more his own family's brand of normal. 

Maybe he was reading too much into all of this, and his bored mind had constructed a puzzle to solve where there was none but a man who had a complicated relationship with his parents, even though said parents were perfectly ordinary people. Humans, as well as every other species in the galaxy, fell out over such pedestrian things as toothpaste, no big fancy secret needed. 

Garak sighed, there wasn't a lot else to do now. The Doctor, as well as his parents, were still in their respective quarters and it was unlikely they would leave them soon and go somewhere Garak could shadow them. 

He grabbed the padd with the Enigma Tale he had originally planned to read the evening before, and settled on the sofa with a cup of tea. But about two chapters in, his eyes started to droop. The night before had been too short, so he decided to go to bed and catch up on the lost sleep. 

The next day started like the one before, with the exception that Garak wasn't as tired. He opened the shop and asked himself for the hundredth time why he even bothered doing mornings when they were always so slow. 

The nonexistant customers gave him time to work on new designs and commissions though. Out of curiosity he checked the computer for Bashir's location. He was still in his quarters, so he really had taken the day off. 

When the computer announced the location of the Doctor's parents, Garak furrowed his eyeridges. 

"Richard and Amsha Bashir are in Captain Sisko's office." 

What were they doing there? Had it something to do with the EMH-programme? 

"Computer, where is Doctor Zimmerman?" 

"Doctor Zimmerman is in the Replimat." 

So it wasn't that. 

Maybe the Captain wanted to hear some stories about little Julian, that he then could use to blackmail him? No, that was Garak's own thinking, not Sisko's. 

Well, whatever it was, there was no way to find out right now. 

He began stitching again, brooding. This time his curiosity wouldn't get the best of him. Not like the time he broke into Bashir's stupid spy game. 

For lunch he was meeting Ziyal, maybe she would take his mind off things. 

But it turned out he was wrong about that as well. 

Ziyal was absent-minded, toying with her food and not engaging with the conversation as she usually did. After she had asked him for the third time what he had just said, Garak sighed. 

"There's something on your mind, my dear." 

She flinched slightly at having been caught out like that, then she sighed. 

"You're right.", she said, "There is something I'm thinking about, but... I can't tell you." 

Garak raised his eyeridges. 

"It's got nothing to do with you.", she added hastily. "I went to the service this morning with Major Kira, and she told me something in... confidence? Well, not really, because what she told me has nothing to do with her either, and it's not _really_ a secret, but... I don't think it's my place to tell you, or anyone." 

"Well", Garak said, "it seems to be quite a burden on you when you're that distracted by it." 

Her face was thoughtful. "It's nothing bad, at least I don't think so. But some people might be disturbed or shocked.", when she said it, she looked right into Garak's eyes, as if she was talking about him. 

"It takes a lot to shock me.", he said. 

"If I know this person right,", Ziyal said, "they will tell you themself, sooner rather than later." 

Now Garak was sure she was talking about Bashir, who else would it be? He wasn't as close with anyone here on the station besides Ziyal. 

This secret would also surely explain why the Doctor's parents had spoken to Captain Sisko this morning. So it was a family matter after all and Garak's instinct hadn't betrayed him. But what was it? There were a million possibilities. 

"If you think they will tell me anyways, you might just tell me now.", Garak tried, "I promise I will act surprised and not give you away." 

She just laughed. "No, this won't work. You can try every trick in your repertoire, I won't say a word." 

Garak shook his head, smiling. He wouldn't try any of his tricks on her, he was done with that line of work. 

So he changed the subject, and they managed to have a normal conversation, now that Ziyal had partially lightened her burden. 

She was probably right, but Garak wished it was sooner rather than later, when he went to bed that night. 

In the morning, there was no message or anything like that. He put on his clothes, left his quarters and opened the shop, just like every day. 

By lunchtime, Garak was so irritated that he couldn't manage to keep up his usual facade of customer-service-friendliness. The people entering the shop must've been able to sense it a few feet away, because a lot of them turned on the spot and left once he glanced at them. 

He was just finishing up some paperwork on the computer console before leaving for his break, when there was a knock on the still open doorframe. 

"We're closed!", Garak said gruffly while turning around to see which imbecile was apparently unable to read a sign. 

Bashir looked taken aback. "Oh sorry, I can come back later if it's not a good time." 

Garak gritted his teeth. "No no, Doctor _I'm_ sorry. It's been a... difficult day, but no reason to let it out on someone innocent. To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"Um, I know it's not our usual time, but I was wondering if you are free for lunch? There's... I want to talk to you about something.", Bashir said. 

Garak raised his eyeridges in fake surprise. "Well, I'm all ears", he smiled, "Lead on.", and he gestured towards the door. 

"Good", the Doctor smiled, "but I thought we could eat in my quarters instead of the Replimat, if that's alright with you?" 

"Oh, now I'm really curious. Normally _I'm_ the secretive one.", Garak said, keeping the tone light. 

"It's not really a secret, but I don't want anyone listening in and... gossipping." 

Garak nodded. "Then your quarters it is." 

The few times Garak had been in Bashir's quarters, his visits had been brief, and in case of the last time, at night. Now he took the time to look around, while the Doctor was replicating their food and drinks. 

There were a few personal trinkets on the shelves, but they basically remained the quarters of a Starfleet Officer rather than a real living space. Not that his own quarters were any better, Garak hadn't been able to take a lot that was of sentimental value to him from Cardassia. 

They sat down at the table across from each other. Garak took a sip of his tea and then looked at Bashir expectantly. He tried to exude an aura of good-natured interest rather than all-consuming curiosity, but with every second that went by this facade threatened to collapse. 

Finally the Doctor took a deep breath. 

"I'll make this brief: I'm genetically engineered."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has nothing to do with this chapter, but boy do I hate how Amsha Bashir is written.   
> It's not so much that she doesn't seem to have her own agenda and just goes where her husband leads, that doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of Deep Space Nine, because the show has so many varied women characters. What I really don't like, and don't understand, is that Bashir's father goes to prison, but his mother doesn't. It makes no sense. Yes, it might have been Richard Bashir's idea to genetically modify their son, but Amsha went along with it. As far as I know, knowing of a crime and not doing anything to stop it, or later report it, is a crime in itself.   
> The Federation is supposedly an equal society, but here it's framed like "oh it was all the husband's idea and his weak wife couldn't do anything about it". Which I would only count as an argument if they had shown him to be abusive towards her.   
> So that's my little rant for today^^ Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	32. Chapter 32

"Ah", said Garak after a long pause. 

His mind had turned completely blank, and this was the only word he had found. 

"Is that the only thing you want to say about it?", Bashir asked. 

"I'm not sure yet.", Garak said, amazed at his own composure, "could you elaborate a little?" 

The Doctor took a deep breath. "My parents brought me to a planet called Adigeon Prime when I was almost seven. We stayed for two months, in which I received treatments. My genetic structure was manipulated to accelerate the growth of neuronal networks in my cerebral cortex. Absolutely everything about me was changed but my name." 

Garak's thoughts went back to the school records in the name 'Jules Bashir' and a puzzle piece clicked into place. 

"But... why? Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't genetic engineering illegal in the Federation?" 

The Doctor pulled a bitter smile. "If you're as disappointed with your child as my parents were, you'll find a way." 

Garak swallowed. This was taking an all too familiar turn. Tain's voice echoed in his head. _'I should have killed your mother before you were born.'_

"I wasn't bright", Bashir went on, "before the treatment, I mean. Small for my age, awkward. I was falling way behind in school. The other kids were learning to read and write, while I still struggled with simple sentences. For the longest time I couldn't tell an apple from an orange, it was just beyond me.", the Doctor's gaze was turned inward, living the memory again with a wondrous expression. 

Garak nodded silently, encouraging him to go on. 

"I didn't know what had been done to me until I found out when I was fifteen. That was the biggest fight I've ever had with my parents." 

Yelling and a sharp pain in his face echoed through Garak's mind vividly as he recalled arguments with his own father. 

"Well, that certainly explains why you never talked about them.", he said. His food stood in front of him, untouched, and he remembered suddenly that they had come here for lunch. 

"Why are you telling me that now?", Garak asked, knowing fully well that somehow the secret had gotten out. 

"Miles and Doctor Zimmerman overheard my parents talking about it, and Zimmerman wanted to file a report. I was about to give up my position here, genetically engineered people aren't welcome in Starfleet.", his tone was bitter, "But Captain Sisko managed to make a deal with a higher-up Admiral. My father is going to prison for two years so I can stay." 

Garak nodded, relieved that Bashir wasn't going anywhere. 

"Then there's only one question left for me to ask.", he said and the Doctor looked hesitant, almost afraid of what he would hear. 

"How in the universe did you manage to hide something as profound as that from me for five years?", Garak had put on a deliberately dramatic expression. "There I sat every week, prattling on about secrecy and spying, making an absolute fool of myself!" 

Bashir blinked for a moment, then his face split into a heartfelt laugh. 

Garak chuckled along, glad that the tension had been broken. 

When the Doctor had himself back under control there were tears in the corners of his eyes, which he hastily brushed away with the sleeve of his uniform. 

"I was a bit afraid that you would ask if I was going to try to rule the universe.", he hesitated, then added, "Like Khan.", and the smile faltered a little. 

Garak had read about Khan and about the Eugenics Wars, maybe the Doctor had even given him the book, but he wasn't sure. What he was sure about, even though he had just learned about Bashir's genetic manipulation, was that there was not the slightest bit of similarity between the Doctor and Khan Noonien Singh. 

"If you had any inclination of wanting that, you could've accomplished it years ago.", he commented and earned a grin. 

There was silence for a moment before Garak spoke up again. 

"So I'm guessing since you went undetected all this time, you held back on your abilities quite a bit?" 

Bashir nodded. "I don't really need the computer for most calculations and I can often recall exactly what was said in any given situation. My hand-eye coordination was enhanced as well. Miles now makes me stand further away from the dartboard.", he said with an eye roll. 

"How much did you hold back during our conversations?", Garak asked. 

"I might have exaggerated the time it took me to finish some books.", the Doctor said and Garak smirked. 

"But seriously", Bashir went on "usually I didn't have to hold anything back when I talked to you, especially not while discussing books. But I was terrified you would find out all the time.", he grinned. 

"You flatter me, Doctor.", Garak almost purred. It was ridiculous how much he wanted Bashir to lean over the table and just kiss him. Apparently being outsmarted was a powerful aphrodisiac, who would've guessed. 

"Not at all, I'm amazed it worked out for so long without me doing anything stupid to blow my cover.", the Doctor said. 

"Now you're flattering yourself." 

Bashir grinned sheepishly. "So... you're not suspicious of me now? Or wary?" 

Garak quirked an eyeridge. "Doctor, have you forgotten who you're talking to? If I were to go up to any resident on this station and ask them who of the both of us the word 'suspicious' applied to more, who do you think they'd say?" 

Bashir laughed a little but quickly became serious again. "They don't know yet.", he said and chewed on his bottom lip. 

"They've known you for years, you're their physician, why should your genetic status change anything about it?" 

"Because genetic manipulation is illegal, it's dangerous and unpredictable. There's a reason results of it aren't allowed to serve in Starfleet. I'm glad you and Miles don't mind, but not everyone will see it that way." 

"Well, then those people are ignorant and not worth your time.", Garak stated simply, "You're one of the most brilliant Doctors in the Federation, or at least I think so, going by the number of awards and conferences you keep telling me about. If you have this kind of Doctor at hand and you choose to disregard him because of something that was done to him as a child, then you're far beyond help in my eyes." 

For a second Bashir looked like he was going to cry, then he swallowed and smiled. 

"Thank you Garak, that really means a lot." 

"Not at all.", Garak brushed it off, a little embarrassed at this outburst of feeling on his part. 

He turned his attention to his food again, which had cooled off substantially, but he didn't mind. 

"You know, I was so close to telling you when I came by your quarters that night.", Bashir said. "It feels good to finally get this off my chest, to not feel so alone with this part of me I couldn't share for so long. Do you ever feel like that?" 

Garak's heartbeat quickened, the Doctor's eyes seemingly stared right through him, into his soul. 

"Sometimes.", he said quietly. For a moment he thought Bashir would grab his hand, but he didn't. So Garak continued, "Though a lot of secrets aren't meant for sharing, that's what makes them secrets." 

"Then I feel all the more honoured that you shared one with me." 

"As you should.", Garak smirked, "If Tain had known you were in the room...", he left the rest of the sentence unfinished, open to imagination. 

"Is a child out of wedlock such a big thing in Cardassian society? Or was Tain married to someone else at the time?" 

"No, he was never married.", Garak said, "The leader of the Obsidian Order can't afford to be that vulnerable." 

Understanding washed over the Doctor's face. "Oh, of course, a family could've been used against him." 

"Exactly." 

"It must've been hard, growing up like that.", Bashir said. 

"I thought we were talking about _your_ past, Doctor.", Garak smirked playfully. 

Bashir grinned. "It's alright if you don't want to talk about your childhood. Even if you did, I couldn't be sure if half of it is true anyway." 

"You don't seem that bothered by it." 

"No, I suppose I'm not.", the Doctor said, gazing into the middle distance, "Not anymore. I expect it from you, and to be honest I kind of like the challenge to work out the truth." 

"Oh?", Garak raised an eyeridge, "You _have_ changed quite a bit." 

The Doctor shrugged. "I guess so. Now I can admit it to myself. I spent every day for so long hiding in plain sight, and you were always kind of open about the fact you were more than meets the eye. Transparent, but at the same time not at all." 

"You were very good at hiding yourself, I must say I'm impressed." 

Bashir scrunched up his face. "I'm not sure if I should be happy about that." 

"Weren't you always fascinated by spies? Now you know what working undercover feels like." 

"It's a lot less interesting when it's not a matter of saving the universe and constantly feeling like you're betraying the people closest to you." 

"As I said, Doctor, now you know what working undercover feels like." 

Bashir looked a little embarrassed. Maybe he was also thinking about their adventure in the holosuite. 

Suddenly a thought crossed Garak's mind. 

"Didn't you say your hand-eye coordination was enhanced as well?" 

The Doctor nodded. "Yes." 

"You never intended to shoot me!", Garak almost yelled, "You were always aiming for my shoulder!", he almost jabbed his index finger into Bashir's chest. 

The Doctor looked puzzled for a moment, then he caught up. 

"I was aiming just below your ear where I knew I wouldn't cause too much damage.", he corrected, "And that's exactly where the bullet hit you." 

"Oh you...", Garak was fuming, but before he could say more he was interrupted. 

"Are you really angry that I didn't try to kill you?", Bashir's lips twitched with humor. 

Garak opened his mouth but couldn't think of a good response, so he closed it again. The Doctor grinned. 

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't have been a pleasant sensation to feel a metal object shoot through my heart, but I do feel quite foolish now.", Garak said with as much dignity as he could muster. 

Bashir still grinned. "As you should when entering other people's holosuite programmes without invitation." 

"I think from my behaviour since then, you can conclude that I learned my lesson. But how could I have possibly foreseen the transporter accident?" 

"Alright, alright.", the Doctor conceded, "And you don't need to feel foolish, I meant everything else I said that day. I was very angry, just not angry enough to kill you, just stop you." 

Garak didn't quite know how to feel about that, but smiled. 

"Garak, I...", Bashir started but got interrupted by the loud beep of his comm badge. Both of them flinched involuntarily. 

"Jabara to Doctor Bashir." 

The Doctor sighed, then replied "Bashir here." 

"Doctor, I'm very sorry to interrupt your break", nurse Jabara said, "but if it's possible, could you return a little earlier? There is a patient in and we're getting very inconclusive readings from him. None of us are sure what to make of it, and he's in quite a lot of pain..." 

"Of course, I'm on my way.", he said harshly. Reflexively Bashir shoved the last remainder of his food into his mouth. He pulled a face at the taste of cold hasperat and got up. 

"Garak, I'm so sorry, I..." 

"No need to apologize, Doctor.", Garak said, already gathering both plates and walking to the replicator. "When duty calls, one needs to answer." 

He received a grateful smile. 

"Listen, Garak, since this has been cut short... maybe we could meet up for dinner tomorrow if you like?" 

Garak winced inwardly. "I'm very sorry Doctor, but I already promised Ziyal to accompany her to the new Andorian restaurant that evening. But how about the day after?" 

Bashir looked disappointed. "Miles and I are planning a viking battle." 

"Oh." 

"But we'll see eachother next lunch, maybe we can find a date that works then?" 

"Of course", Garak smiled, feeling like they once again had wasted a moment when they walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They just keep on missing opportunities, but at least they talked about emotions, right?^^


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "Empok Nor", as always some dialogue was taken from the show.

The next lunch had to be moved as well. It wasn't Bashir's fault, it was just one of those Deep Space Nine incidents that happened from time to time, and since he was a high-ranking member of staff, he was fully caught up in the madness. 

Garak knew that, and still he was deeply frustrated. 

As strange as it sounded, but after what Bashir had told him about his past, he felt a kind of connection that hadn't been there before. It didn't come down to the Doctor's genetic status, but to his relationship with his parents. Garak knew exactly the feeling of being torn between the need for love, recognition, and hatred for the things done to him. 

Of course Ziyal had asked Garak if Bashir had told him. He affirmed and they discussed the matter for a bit before Garak steered the conversation in a different direction. Ziyal wasn't the person he wanted to talk to about it. If he did, he feared he would accidentally reveal too much. Paradoxical, since it wasn't even his own secret. 

Also, not so much a secret anymore. Knowledge spread quickly on a small Space Station, and soon everyone had heard about _their_ CMO being genetically engineered. 

The Doctor seemed to keep a low profile, a good tactic until the gossip would quiet down a little. 

When they could finally arrange their lunch, Bashir chose a table that was almost hidden from view behind a staircase, instead of their usual one. Garak didn't comment and just followed, chatting cheerfully like he normally did. 

There were dark circles under the Doctor's eyes. 

"You look tired.", Garak said, "I hope it's because you read 'the scarlet secret' well into the night?" 

Bashir winced. "Ah, sorry Garak. I completely forgot about it, I'm only halfway through." 

"And here I thought your newly uncovered genetic status would speed up our book discussions. I see I have been mistaken.", Garak smirked teasingly. 

The Doctor gave him the look of a kicked puppy. 

"Ah, but I see you've had a rough few days.", Garak backpedaled quickly, "I think this time it can be excused.", he tried for a warm smile. 

What he received in return was a half-hearted attempt at a grin. Bashir picked at his food listlessly. 

"I fear I'm not very good company today, Garak.", he said, while looking around like he expected people to point fingers and stare. 

"Nonsense, Doctor.", Garak made a sweeping hand gesture as if to wipe away the thought, then he lowered his voice, "Have people been giving you a hard time?" 

"No actually, not really", Bashir furrowed his brow, "it's just... a lot of attention." 

"And not the kind of attention you would want.", Garak finished the thought. 

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, most of them mean well, but being asked to show what you can do like a circus attraction isn't exactly my idea of fun." 

"Maybe I can raise your spirits with dinner and a bottle of spring wine this evening?" 

Bashir smiled, genuinely this time, but then it fell and he sighed. "Sorry Garak, I need to finish an urgent report for Captain Sisko, I'll probably be working into the night.", he grimaced. "But how about tomorrow?" 

"I already made plans with Ziyal for a Cardassian holo-opera, I'm sorry." 

"Oh." 

There was a moment of silence. 

"You... spend a lot of time with her, don't you?" 

There was something in the Doctor's voice that made Garak raise an eyeridge. 

"As do you with Chief O'Brien." 

"I don't spend every waking minute with Miles." 

"And what is that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing.", Bashir pressed his lips together. "It's just that it's almost impossible to make plans with you outside of lunch lately." 

Garak was beginning to get annoyed. 

"May I remind you, Doctor, that _you_ are busy this evening while I am not?" 

"That's work." 

"And how is that any easier to circumvent in making plans? Please do tell." 

The Doctor sighed deeply. "Look, I was just saying it's frustrating to find a time that works for both of us." 

"No, I believe what you were insinuating was, that you are annoyed I'm not eagerly awaiting your call and come running whenever you please. I have a life of my own, Doctor, with friends, just like you." 

"I did not say that!" 

"Is it not true?" 

There was a moment of silence. 

"You and Ziyal spend a lot of time together for _friends_.", Bashir said quietly. He didn't meet Garak's eyes. 

"And what is it to you?", Garak asked sharply, still angry but also strangely hopeful, "If you have anything to say about it, say it." 

For a while the Doctor looked at him, then he got up abruptly, grabbing his tray. 

"I have to go. Patients are waiting." 

And with that he quickly weaved through the crowd. 

Garak watched him go, his heart beating fast. _That_ was not what he had envisioned. 

He had given him a chance. If even now he couldn't say something and instead chose to flee the scene... maybe there wasn't anything to say at all. 

After that, there was nothing. Neither of them attempted contact. 

A few times Garak's steps slowed down in front of the infirmary, but every time he forced himself to walk on. 

The silence lasted for two weeks, then he got a letter from Bashir, apologizing for his behaviour. He was still struggling with the reveal of his genetic status, the Doctor wrote, and unlearning the habit of hiding part of himself from view, which had taken a toll on his mood. He hadn't meant to start an argument, and of course Garak had a life outside of him, that had never been in question. 

It was all very heartfelt and apologetic, but there was no mention of Ziyal and what Bashir thought about her, or the time she spent with Garak. 

Garak sighed. Of course he would forgive the Doctor and meet him for lunch, but the hope that they could somehow revive what they'd had, had wilted like an Edosian Orchid in a Vulcan desert. 

It was reflected in their next meeting. They made polite conversation, scratched the surface of 'the scarlet secret', but the usual spark had gone. There was no depth to what they were saying, no witty banter. Just dancing around the subject that really mattered, and when they parted ways Garak felt relieved it was over. 

The next few weeks weren't any better. Occasionally there were glimpses of their old dynamic shining through, but mostly each of them stayed behind a thick wall. 

Sometimes Garak made excuses to leave early. 

A cloth of melancholy draped over him like a veil. Was that how it was going to end? Not with a bang, but a slow souring and distance while sitting only feet apart? He felt like screaming, but what good would that do? 

Well, he wouldn't be strung along anymore. Should there still be feelings on Bashir's part, they obviously weren't strong enough to do something about it. Garak had kept up this ridiculous pining for far too long. 

The whole matter made him grumpy and irritable, which didn't go unnoticed by his customers, and most of all Ziyal. She observed his mood swings with worry. 

"Garak?", she asked one evening over dinner, "Have you had a disagreement with Doctor Bashir?" 

He looked up. "No, what makes you say that?" 

"You're... not quite yourself whenever you've had lunch with him. It's been going on for weeks." 

Oh she was clever! 

He gave her a smile that he knew she would recognize as fake. 

"It's nothing to worry about. The good Doctor only made me read a whole series of frankly ghastly Human books. You know how bad writing puts me out of sorts.", he smiled again. 

Ziyal didn't look convinced but didn't call out his lie either, so they changed topic and the matter didn't arise again. 

Halfway through their meal they decided to continue it at a different place though. Quark's bar had suddenly become very noisy when Chief O'Brien and Nog apparently decided it was a good time to repair a broken conduit with the loudest drill Garak had ever heard. 

The next day then brought a surprise. He got a message from Captain Sisko, inviting Garak to his office. 

"Ah, good afternoon Mr Garak." 

From the wide grin on his face Garak could tell that he wanted something. 

"What can I do for you, Captain?", Garak asked with an equally broad grin. 

"Have you noticed the repairs going on at Quark's bar and all around the station?" 

"Yes, I have.", Garak confirmed, wondering what Sisko was up to. 

"Well, the situation is as follows...", the Capatain began as if he had read Garak's mind. 

At the end of the conversation, Garak found himself agreeing to accompany a mission heading to Empok Nor, an abandoned Cardassian space station, to procure spare parts that could be used to make necessary repairs on Deep Space Nine. 

He had been chosen because the Captain was aware that the Cardassian military tended to booby trap facilities that weren't used anymore to prevent unauthorised use. 

Garak had plenty of experience with traps of all kinds, and on top of that he was Cardassian. Those booby traps were usually geared towards other species, making him effectively immune. 

"So, what did Captain Sisko do to persuade you to come along?", the Chief asked when they were both boarding the runabout. 

"How do you know I didn't volunteer?", Garak said, to which the Chief replied with laughter. 

"He threatened you, didn't he?" 

"Nothing so coarse. The Captain bribed me. He offered to help me procure a larger space for my workshop. The latest dressmaking equipment is surprisingly bulky." 

"Well, whatever he did, I'm glad you're here." 

That was a new kind of tone. Garak stopped dead in his track and looked at the Chief. 

"What's the matter?" 

"Well", Garak said, "it's just that lately I've noticed everyone seems to trust me. It's quite unnerving. I'm still trying to get used to it. Next thing I know, people are going to be inviting me to their homes for dinner." 

The irony in that sentence was only for him to understand. 

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I promise I will _never_ have you over." 

"I appreciate that, Chief.", Garak said with fake joviality. 

"Ah, don't mention it. Anything to return the favor. Disarming Cardassian booby traps is my least favourite kind of engineering." 

"I can certainly understand that, but don't worry. I have some experience in that area." 

The Chief had chosen a team of his engineers and some command track officers, among them Nog, Quark's nephew. On the long flight, Garak amused himself by attempting to teach the small Ferengi to play Kotra, but he soon discovered it was more frustrating than fun. 

"Kotra is not about 'regrouping' or hoarding 'assets'.", he explained, exasperated. "It's about bold strategy and decisive action." 

Bashir had understood that, the few times Garak had managed to convince him to play. The Doctor didn't find much joy in the game, and Garak was beginning to lose his, the way Nog was playing. 

"Chief", he called desperately, "would you like to take on the winner? I'd love to play kotra against the hero of Setlik III." 

Garak just couldn't resist the urge to provoke a reaction, and it promptly followed. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"Oh, we all know your distinguished war record, how you led two dozen men against the Barrica encampment and took out an entire regiment of Cardassians. If you play kotra with half that brazenness, we'd have quite a match." 

"I'm not a soldier anymore. I'm an engineer.", came the answer from the Chief. 

"I see. So when you and Doctor Bashir go into the holosuites for hours at a time, you're just repairing them?" 

"What's your point Garak?", the Chief was getting irritated. 

"I'm just curious. Why _do_ you and Doctor Bashir spend hours in the holosuites, dressed as fighter pilots, reliving ancient battles?" 

The universe knew that Garak had had to listen to numerous recounts of said adventures. 

"We... do it for fun. It's a game." 

"And so is kotra.", Garak said and put down the last stone that would guarantee his victory, "And I'd love nothing more than to play against a man like you." 

"Maybe some other time." 

Garak smiled in a way that he hoped would be counted as friendly. He was still irritated, but returned to the game, even though he knew he had already won. 

The rest of the trip he mended some garments he had taken with him. He didn't want to fall too far behind on commissions. 

Finally they reached the station. 

"Approaching Empok Nor, sir.", Nog announced from the helm. 

"Take us out of warp.", Chief O'Brien instructed, "Run a full scan. I'll take the helm.", he sat down next to Nog. 

"The station's main power supply and life-support systems are off-line. No life sign.", the Ferengi reported. 

"I'll take us into transporter range.", the Chief said. 

That was when Garak cut in. 

"Oh, I don't think we can risk beaming aboard. There are probably pattern scramblers rigged to go off if they detect a non-Cardassian transporter signal." 

"That could be messy.", the Chief commented drily, "We'll have to dock.", he pressed a few buttons on the console, "The landing pads are sealed. We'll have to try an upper pylon." 

"Won't the airlock have booby traps?", there was concern in Nog's voice. 

"You can count on it.", Garak said matter-of-factly, "And someone is going to have to disarm them before we dock." 

"I volunteer, sir." 

This young Ferengi was obviously very eager to prove himself. 

"The scanner in the airlock might mistake your enthusiasm as Cardassian...", Garak said in a kindly voice, "but not your DNA. No, I'm afraid I'm the only one who has a chance of getting through." 

That was why he had been sent on this mission in the first place, right? 

The Chief gave him a nod, and Garak did the same, before going to the back of the runabout and changing into the bulky space suit. He hated the thing, it made him feel caged in, but it was necessary since there was no breathable air on Empok Nor. 

"Are you ready?", the Chief asked when he was done, "we're in position now." 

His voice sounded far off through the helmet. 

Garak stretched his limbs experimentally and tested his grip with the gloves, then he gave a nod. 

Well then, he thought, onwards to Empok Nor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry >.< I promise I'll make it all better very soon, but the fight had to come up. Sooner or later they needed to talk about Ziyal, and because they're both monumental idiots, it happened like that.   
> Empok Nor is gonna be... interesting to write. Murdery Garak, yay^^;
> 
> Also, in this fic, "Children of time" never happened. I don't like that episode and I don't think it makes any sense from a character standpoint. Miles is apparently the only sane one there, but even he eventually gets convinced. There is just no way I can explain why Julian is super thrilled about all the great-great-grandchildren or whatever he has with random crewmember of the Defiant, when in this fic he is in love with Garak.  
> So just imagine Kira found out about Odo's feelings some other way.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "Empok Nor", most of the dialogue taken from the show

Inside the airlock it was dark, just some residual light was let in through the round window. Garak switched on the lamp inside his helmet and the flashlight he had brought. His gravity boots clunked heavily on the floor and it was a struggle to walk. Better though than floating through the small room. 

The first thing he did was switching on the mechanism for the artificial gravity. When he did so, some objects clattered to the ground. Next came the light and life support functions. With a satisfying whirr both came to life. 

He waited for a bit, until his suit reported that the outside environment now contained breathable air, and took off the helmet. 

It was breathable alright, but stuffy and smelling... weird. Well, after a few hours the filtering system would have it up to standard. 

Then to disabling the station-wide security net. Mercifully he didn't have to search long for the nearest computer access. A few standard codes did the trick. That wasn't to say that there couldn't be more. The Cardassian military was famous for their... unconventional humor. 

He sent a message to the runabout that the coast was clear, and then settled in to wait, meanwhile ridding himself of the damn space suit. 

It was eerie inside this dimly-lit space station. Garak did like the change, since the bright lights of the Federation weren't ideal for Cardassian sensibilities, but the total absence of any life at all felt... uncomfortable. It didn't help that this station was an exact copy of Deep Space Nine, which was usually busy and colourful. 

"Ah, welcome to Empok Nor", he greeted the party when they finally arrived. 

"Thanks for having us.", the Chief said, strolling over to where Garak was sitting against the wall. 

"Take whatever you need.", Garak joked, "My house is your house." 

The Chief addressed the whole crew. "All right, listen up. We're going to break up into three teams. Nog and Stolzoff, you're with me. We'll do the must-haves. Pechetti and Amaro, you'll do the could-use. Boq'ta and Garak, would-be-nice. Garak has disabled the central security net, but there could be booby traps anywhere. Don't move into an area until you've scanned it. If you see something that isn't right, don't touch it. Call for help. All right, let's go." 

And so they did. Boq'ta was a young Bolian man with brilliant light blue skin, he seemed very cautious and a little intimidated by Garak. 

With Garak leading the way, they explored the promenade. He had just gestured for Boq'ta to go up a flight of stairs, when his hand touched something sticky on the bannister. 

"Ugh. What's this?" 

He shone his flashlight on his palm. The substance was blue. 

Boq'ta turned around and sweeped Garak's hand with his scanner. 

"It's a biogenic compound." 

"I wonder where it came from.", Garak muttered, looking around. 

Then he spotted something. 

"Follow me.", he said. 

The doors to the infirmary were half-opened, and when Garak attempted to enter, they slid apart easily with the push of a hand. 

Inside, they didn't find the expected array of medical devices, but three identical stasis tubes, all neatly lined up. 

"These look like stasis tubes.", Boq'ta stated the obvious. 

Garak walked around them and absentmindedly wiped his hand on his trouser leg. The one on the right side was broken, there was a heavy beam stuck in the casing that must've fallen from the ceiling. With some effort, Garak heaved it out of the tube. Then he pressed the button to open it. 

Boq'ta shone his light inside and flinched slightly when the skeleton came into view. 

"Cardassian.", he said, sweeping the tricorder, but Garak had already spotted the ridges on the skull. "He's been dead for about a year. Hey, look at this.", Boq'ta took something from inside the tube and blew the dust away. 

"Interesting.", Garak commented. 

"A regimental badge." 

"Third Battalion, First Order, if I'm not mistaken." 

"This is going to make Pechetti's day.", Boq'ta said, referring to his colleague's collecting habit. Garak found it a little tasteless, but right now his mind was occupied by other things. 

"Both those tubes have been activated recently." 

It was worrying to say the least. 

"We better tell the Chief about it.", Boq'ta said. 

Garak nodded. 

"Garak to O'Brien." 

"Go ahead.", came the prompt answer. 

"Could you come down to the infirmary? There's something you should see." 

"On my way." 

The Chief was quick, and so was the rest of the crew, with some more worrying news. 

"A runabout doesn't disengage from its docking clamps and blow up all on its own.", O'Brien muttered, pacing around the stasis tubes. 

"Which leads me to believe that the former occupants of these chambers are up and about.", Garak said. 

"If you're telling me that there are two Cardassian soldiers from the Third Battalion loose on this station, we're in trouble.", Pechetti piped up, "'Death to all.' That was their motto." 

"Three simple words, and they certainly sum up their credo nicely.", Garak commented. 

"Why would the Cardassians abandon this station and leave behind a few soldiers in stasis tubes?" 

A valid question from Nog. That didn't sound like a Cardassian military strategy Garak was familiar with. 

"Why do you think?", Stolzoff answered his question, "To guard it. The tubes were probably rigged to wake them up as soon as someone came aboard." 

"Well, that's possible", the Chief said, "but one thing's for sure, they're out there somewhere and considering what they did to the runabout I don't think they're too friendly." 

"Maybe they're just upset because we haven't introduced ourselves." 

Garak smirked, he appreciated Stolzoff's gallows humor. 

"We should find them. Say hello.", Amaro added. He pressed a few buttons on his tricorder. "This thing's not working." 

"Neither is mine.", the Chief said, doing the same. "They must've set up a dampening field." 

"We've got to get out of here. Let's call for help." 

Boq'ta sounded mildly panicked. 

"How?", asked Pechetti, "The station's subspace transceiver was ripped out when the Cardassians evacuated." 

"Well, we could always try sending smoke signals.", Amaro joked. 

"That's not a bad idea.", said the Chief with an expression on his face that told Garak he'd just formulated a plan. "The deflector grid is still relatively intact. If we could modify the field coils to emit a series of covariant pulses... " 

"We could use the station like an old-fashioned telegraph and tap out an S.O.S.", Pechetti finished the thought. 

"For the pulses to be strong enough to reach Deep Space Nine we'll have to boost power to the induction grid.", the Chief said, "Pechetti, you go down to the Habitat Ring and bring the microfusion reactor back on line. Stolzoff, you go with him. Boq'ta, realign the magnetic flow field in Conduit G-4. Amaro will watch your back. Nog and Garak, you're with me. We'll set up the signal generator in Cargo Bay 4." 

"Aye, Chief.", Nog said. 

"Use your communicators as little as possible.", O'Brien continued, "We don't want to give away our positions. Any questions?" 

The answer was a unanimous shaking of heads. 

"Let's go." 

Cargo Bay 4 was as dark as the rest of the station, but undamaged, and most importantly free of recently defrosted Cardassian soldiers. 

"Well, I'm not convinced Stolzoff was right about our Cardassian friends.", Garak told the Chief, "Why would anyone voluntarily seal themselves into a stasis tube, perhaps for years, just to guard an abandoned station? Even the Third Battalion isn't that fanatical. Something else is going on." 

And he had a very bad feeling about this, even worse than the situation warranted, and that was a lot. Despite that, his curiosity was piqued. 

"Maybe so", the Chief said, halfway buried under one of the machines"but I don't intend to be here long enough to find out what it is." 

"That's the trouble with humans. You don't know how to appreciate a good mystery." 

"I _love_ a good mystery... the kind I can read in bed, not the kind that's trying to kill you." 

"Don't get me wrong, Chief. I want to get off this station as much as you do, but I just know if I don't figure this out, it's going to nag at me for days." 

"All right, now, let's concentrate on finishing the signal modulator so that we can get out of here. You have the whole trip home to sort out your mystery." 

The Chief was right of course, but Garak's mind still lingered on the puzzle. 

"Nog?", O'Brien called. The little Ferengi had wandered off somewhere with his almost comically large phaser rifle. He was there to keep an eye out for the soldiers, but Garak couldn't say that he felt any safer with him watching their backs than without him. 

"I need your help with the phase discriminator.", the Chief called again. 

"On my way Chief.", Nog's small voice echoed from somewhere out of sight, behind a few barrels. A few seconds later he appeared. 

"No Cardassians in sight.", he reported, and after a look towards Garak added "Well, apart from Mr Garak." 

Garak raised an eyeridge but didn't comment. 

They worked for a while, always listening for strange sounds and looking over their shoulders. 

Suddenly the Chief's comm badge chirped. 

"Stolzoff to O'Brien!", the young woman yelled, sounding agitated, "A Cardass-", she didn't get to finish the sentence before a loud noise and a grunt cut her off. 

"Stolzoff?", the Chief asked, "Stolzoff!", but she didn't answer. 

Quickly he made his way to the Habitat Ring where Stolzoff and Pechetti had been sent, Garak and Nog following closely behind. 

When they arrived there was nothing they could do. Her body lay crushed and broken on the floor, phaser and tricorder beside her. 

The Chief knelt down next to her, checking her pulse even though it was obvious that she was dead, then he exhaled a little shakily. 

Illuminating the scene with his flashlight, he looked around and got up when he seemed to have found something. Glass was crunching under his boots when he entered the small alcove with the broken window. Inside lay Pechetti. 

Garak helped carry him out and laying him next to Stolzoff. The other officers, who had arrived in the meantime, spread a sheet over the two lifeless bodies. 

Garak rubbed the place on his hand where he had touched the slimy substance. He could still feel the ghost of it on his skin. Disgusting. He scrunched up his nose 

"The Cardassians must've surprised them.", said Boq'ta, clearly shaken, "They're probably using the internal sensors to track us." 

"Take it easy.", the Chief had a grim expression on his face, "We're going to get out of here, you can count on that. But we've got to stay focused. It looks like Pechetti was almost done getting the microfusion reactor back on line. I'll finish that and then I'll go back down to the cargo bay. How are you doing with the conduits?", the last question was to Boq'ta. 

"I... I'm done." 

"Good. Now, you and Amaro get down to Auxiliary control and reconfigure the pulse generator." 

"We're going to split up?", now Boq'ta was clearly frightened. 

"We have to. If we don't send out a signal, we're never going to get off this station." 

"But Chief, what if we-" 

"I need you Boq'ta.", O'Brien had walked up to the Bolian and looked at him firmly. "You can do this." 

"Don't worry. I'll watch your back.", Amaro said from his watch post above. 

"Stolzoff was supposed to be watching Pechetti's back. Look what happened to them.", Boq'ta's voice had reached a whiny pitch. But they couldn't risk one of the crew falling into blind panic, not when so much depended on it. 

"What if I send Garak with you, too?", the Chief asked and Garak raised an eyeridge in surprise. "Would that make you feel better?" 

Boq'ta looked at Garak and nodded enthusiastically. 

No. No way he was going to play babysitter for a frightened Starfleet Officer. 

"I'm flattered.", he said, "But I'm afraid I have other plans." 

"What are you talking about?", the Chief asked. 

"I don't intend to stand around waiting to be killed." 

There was a persistent itch on his neck, how irritating. 

"Meaning what?" 

"Meaning I'm going after those two Cardassian soldiers... and neutralize them. Besides, all this whining is giving me a headache.", he walked off, though he didn't get far before he heard the loading of a phaser and Amaro saying "You're going to have more than a headache if you don't do what the Chief wants." 

Garak stopped. 

"Amaro...", O'Brien said, an unspoken warning in his voice. 

"You'd like to shoot me, wouldn't you?", Garak asked. He felt strangely calm even though Amaro's phaser rifle was still pointed at him. "You're dying to kill a Cardassian, any Cardassian." 

"Let him go.", the Chief ordered, and after a moment Garak could hear the sound of the phaser powering down. 

"If he thinks he can neutralize the Cardassians, let him try. He'll be doing us all a favor" 

"That's the spirit.", Garak grinned at the Chief, probably a little too enthusiastically. "Why don't you come with me, Chief? Kill a few 'Cardies'. It'll be like old times. Wouldn't you like to avenge their deaths?" 

A rush of blood rang in his ears. He liked to provoke, to get a reaction out of people, it was _fun_. 

"No.", said O'Brien. "I just want to get everyone home." 

Oh what a boring answer! 

"You're fighting your instincts, I can see it, but the hero of Setlik III is still inside there somewhere." 

The Chief looked at him for a long moment. 

"If you're going to go, go." 

So Garak turned around and walked into the darkness. 

It was easy to fall back on his training. Move silently, become one with your surroundings. In this dim light it was especially simple. 

He was almost giddy with excitement. All senses heightened and alert. 

In the distance he could still hear the voices of the others, but he put them out of his mind, he had a mission now. 

First he went back to the infirmary, more precisely the computer panel. 

"Access denied. Access denied.", he mumbled in frustration, typing furiously on the triangular console. "Don't you know how to say anything else?" 

The itch was back and he dug his fingernails deep into his neck. It was somewhere under his skin. 

The computer beeped another denial and he sighed. 

"Apparently not." 

Then a mechanical thump in the distance made him look up. 

After a short moment he continued typing. 

"Access denied. Access denied." 

He was a spy, he knew when someone was nearby. From the corner of his eyes he tried to catch a glimpse in his peripheral vision. 

"Access denied. How monotonous." 

There, footsteps, faint but still audible. He would be here soon. Time to hide. 

Quickly he slid the lid off the broken stasis tube and climbed inside. 

He didn't have to wait long. 

The soldier entered the infirmary, disruptor rifle pointed in front of him. He looked around carefully, treading softly around the computer panel, then the stasis tubes. When he was in just the right position, Garak pressed the button for the lid. 

"Looking for me?", he asked, aiming his disruptor at the surprised soldier. Garak didn't wait for an answer though and killed him on the spot. 

"Oh, that felt... good." 

Saying it out loud sounded alarming, but it was true. He hadn't killed anyone in years, and seldom with such glee as just right now. 

Adrenaline pumped through his veins. 

He climbed out of the stasis tube and scratched at his skin absentmindedly. Time to find the others again and tell them about his successful hunt. But first... 

Leaning over the body, he nestled at the soldier's uniform until he had what he wanted. The shiny First Order badge. He put it in his pocket. 

Then he took a tissue sample from the neck, and what interesting things it told him. 

He found the Chief and Nog first. They apparently thought they had secured the doors, how cute. 

"... keep bringing up Setlik III?", he could hear part of Nog's question. 

"Because he wants to get under my skin.", the Chief answered. 

Garak kept in the shadows. 

"But you were a hero, weren't you?" 

"That doesn't mean I like thinking about what happened then. I was a soldier, Nog. Sometimes soldiers have to kill." 

Maybe it was time to make his presence known. 

"Come now Chief", Garak called, "don't be so modest. You did a lot of killing." 

"How did you get in here?", Nog asked incredulous, "Both doors are secure." 

"'Secure' is such a relative term, wouldn't you agree?", Garak said airily, "I've brought you something. If you don't mind.", he handed the Chief the badge. "I'm sure Pechetti would've appreciated it more, but..." 

"Where did you get this?" 

"From its former owner." 

"You killed one of the soldiers?", Nog stated the obvious in form of a question. 

"One down, one to go. By the way, I took a tissue sample from the soldier's body. The analysis was rather fascinating, in a grim sort of way. It seems the unfortunate soul had been given a massive dose of psychotropic drugs." 

"Why?", the Chief scrunched up his face in thought. 

"I'm not sure, but I can tell you one thing, it wasn't to make him amicable. The drug's protein structure seems designed to amplify my people's xenophobic tendencies." 

Bashir would've been fascinated by it. But better not to think about him right now. 

"My guess is that the soldiers that were left here were part of a Cardassian military experiment.", Garak continued, "The High Command was probably looking for a way to further motivate their troops." 

"So they gave them a drug to make them hate anybody but Cardassians.", the Chief simplified Garak's statement. 

"Then why did they attack _you_?", Nog asked, suspicion in his voice. 

"That's a good question.", Garak said. 

"Maybe it's an experiment that went wrong. That's why they were left in stasis. They were uncontrollable.", the Chief mused. 

"I'd love to stay and hypothesize all afternoon, but once I've set my mind to a task, I hate to leave it unfinished." 

Garak was getting restless, his body called for another hunt, now that he had started. 

But O'Brien got up and looked at Garak with furrowed brows. 

"What is it, Chief?" 

"You look different.", he said. 

"How so?" 

"That's not the face of a tailor." 

"I'm not a tailor." 

It came over his lips so easily. 

"Not for the moment, anyway.", he added after a second and gave a smile that he hoped was reassuring. But somehow the thought of talking to those two any longer made him feel sick. Then he walked away into the darkness again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is mostly a retelling of Empok Nor, but I'm planning something for the next chapter to kinda add onto the plot of the episode.  
> Also this chapter is kinda late, holidays are coming up and it's a bit hectic, but once that has quieted down I'll have more time again.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is still "Empok Nor", lots of dialogue taken from show

What a change this was from the life he'd led for the last few years. It was all coming back to him, not just the training. The mindset. 

Lurking in the shadows, unseen, unexpected. A silent reaper. 

Why did he even still live on Deep Space Nine, masquerading as the harmless tailor just scraping by to make a living? He used to be somebody! A spy, and a damn good one, in the Obsidian Order no less. 

He could be someone again, why hadn't he seen it before? 

Taking out the soldier was just the first step, he could do everything he set his mind to. This power pumping through his veins, it felt incredible. 

He found Boq'ta and Amaro, they were talking, quietly but still audible. So the soldier would surely be nearby somewhere. There were a lot of dark corners to hide. 

His skin was itching again. 

Suddenly he heard steps, and when he looked to the left, he saw a shadow moving near his hiding place. It was moving towards Boq'ta and Amaro, but Amaro didn't see the looming danger, he was still talking. 

Quickly Garak left his spot and, as quietly as possible, ran around to the other side. 

Boq'ta and Amaro were still chatting, and Amaro bent down towards the toolbox to grab a coil spanner. For that he had to put down the phaser rifle. 

"What does it look like?", he asked. 

"It's got two pointy things on the end.", Boq'ta answered, half covered by the mechanism he was repairing so that only shoulders, neck and head were visible. 

Suddenly he screamed. 

Garak flinched and peeked around the corner to see. 

The soldier had his foot on Boq'ta's neck, choking him. 

Amaro shot up, but he was too late. Boq'ta had stopped struggling. 

Amaro grabbed his phaser rifle, but the soldier was already aiming. 

Time to act. 

Without a second thought, Garak stepped into the corridor and shot the soldier in the back. A loud thud marked the moment his body fell to the floor. 

Amaro was breathing heavily, looking at Garak with surprise. And fear. 

Then his gaze went to Boq'ta. 

"He asked me to get a coil spanner for him. I just turned my back for a second." 

What a careless man, didn't they teach them anything at Starfleet academy? In the Order he would be punished for letting this happen. By death. 

Garak went over to him and took the tool from his hand. 

"That's a shame.", he said, "And the worst part of it is... this isn't a coil spanner." 

And with that he rammed it into Amaro's chest. 

It went in like a hot knife through butter, making a sticky sound when the blood oozed out of the broken skin. 

"It's a flux-coupler." 

The Starfleet Officer fell to the ground, just like the soldier had. But this was more satisfying than shooting a disruptor, a more hands-on approach. 

For a moment the rage inside him was satisfied, but it didn't last long. 

He felt like playing a little game... 

And what better place to start than the Commander's office? There he found what he was looking for, a Kotra board, but all the little figurines were scattered around. 

"I know you're hiding somewhere...", he murmured, almost singing it like an incantation. "Ah. There you are.", he told the last piece when he spotted it on the floor. 

Then he pressed the comm badge. 

"Garak to Chief O'Brien. You'll never guess what I just found. A Kotra board. The Station Commander left one in his office. The pieces were scattered all over, but I found the last one hiding under his desk. I can't help thinking what a perfect metaphor this game is for our present situation, hmm? Two players, two minds, two strategies, each trying to outmaneuver the other, testing the enemy's defenses, advancing, retreating." 

While he talked he was aware that the Chief and Nog would most likely be on their way to the Commander's office. 

"... that, in the game we're playing the stakes are life and death", he continued, "which makes it so much more interesting.", he couldn't suppress a laugh, "I haven't had this much fun in years. My heart's pounding. The blood's racing through my veins. I feel so alive... and I'd wager, so do you." 

Now they had reached Ops, he could hear the sound of the door being opened by force. 

Garak was already hidden in the shadows, watching as they entered carefully, phaser rifles cocked and ready. 

He waited until O'Brien was in the Commander's office, Nog still down in Ops, then Garak activated the office door and security grid, locking the Chief in. 

Then he grabbed Nog from behind. 

The little Ferengi struggled, but eventually Garak was able to grab the phaser rifle, aiming it at Nog, which stilled his protest. 

"It looks like I've captured your last piece, Chief. If you want it back, you're going to have to take it from me." 

O'Brien said nothing and Garak retreated, Nog in tow. The door was set to open after a short countdown, he wanted to keep it fair after all. 

"It's your move, Chief.", he taunted over the comm, "What are you going to do? Attack? Retreat? Surrender?" 

"Listen to me, Garak", he answered, "it's the drug. It's affecting you. You've got to fight it." 

"Fight it?", Garak laughed, "But I'm enjoying myself. This is the most exciting game I've played in years." 

He was tying Nog up so he wouldn't be able to interfere. 

"It's not a game!", the Chief insisted. 

"Oh but it is, and the best thing about it is that it brings out the player's true nature." 

"Where are you, Garak?!" 

"I saw the look in your eyes when I took the Ferengi away from you. You wanted to kill me. You wanted to strangle me with your bare hands." 

"I just want my crewman back that's all.", the Chief pleaded. 

"You're a killer, admit it. We both are. Behind your Federation mask of decency and benevolence, you're a predator, just like me." 

"No, I'm nothing like you." 

"Oh but you are.", Garak said, "You proved that on Setlik III. How many Cardassians did you kill? Ten? Twenty? A hundred?" 

How many had _he_ killed? Garak had never kept count. 

"I don't remember." 

Well apparently the Chief hadn't either. 

"Oh but you remember how you felt. The Cardassians were killing your men. You had to stop them. You had to make them pay. Blood for blood! You enjoyed killing them, didn't you, huh? You enjoyed watching the life drain out of their eyes." 

"All right Garak, you want to finish this game? Fine, let's finish it.", the Chief's voice sounded more agressive now. Garak smirked, he had gotten into his head. "You and me, face to face." 

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure. We'll meet on the promenade." 

"No weapons!", the Chief insisted. 

"No weapons.", Garak agreed, not planning to keep to this promise. 

He turned towards the Ferengi. 

"You have no idea how hard it is to keep from pulling this trigger, but I need you alive." 

Before they met on the promenade, Garak had a little surprise planned for the Chief. 

"Isn't that nice.", he mumbled to himself, while hoisting up the last body, stringing it on a rope from one of the bannisters. There they all hung, feet just touching the ground, almost as if they were still alive. 

And not one minute too late, soon after Garak had taken his position, he saw the Chief approaching. The sight of his dead crewmen visibly shocked him. 

"They've come to cheer you on, Chief", Garak called, "your loyal team. Apparently, they've forgiven you for getting them all killed. My supporters may be fewer in number but they're no less loyal." 

The Chief turned around the corner and they were finally face to face, only a few meters separating them. 

"I thought we agreed, no weapons.", Garak commented drily when he saw O'Brien's phaser rifle, holding his own. 

"What's that in your hand?", the Chief asked just as drily. 

"Well, how did this get here? But we won't be needing these, will we? Put yours down." 

"You first." 

"Put it down... or say goodbye to the Ferengi." 

"Don't do it, Chief", Nog spat out between gritted teeth. 

"Oh, he has nothing to worry about. I'm not going to shoot an unarmed man.", Garak told the little Ferengi in his most condescending tone. "What fun would that be?" 

Slowly, very slowly, O'Brien bent down to his knees, putting the rifle on the ground. All the while he kept his eyes fixed on Garak. 

"You wouldn't happen to have another one, would you?" 

Garak wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating an opponent. 

The Chief reached behind him and pulled out two phasers. 

"Naughty, naughty.", Garak commented with a smile and a little shake of the head. 

"Your turn.", O'Brien said when he had put both down next to the rifle. 

"I admit I am tempted to end this right now. But that would be depriving myself of too much enjoyment." 

He put down his own disruptor rifle on a nearby barrel. 

Then he took a menacing step towards the Chief, who had already put up his fists and arranged his feet in a fighter's stance. 

They circled eachother for a few moments until Garak couldn't hold back any longer and struck the first blow. 

Faster than his age and stature let on, the Chief ducked away and they were back to circling. Not for long though, as Garak tried another hit. O'Brien blocked it with his arm and landed a blow in Garak's stomach. Quickly Garak hit back and landed a good punch in the Chief's face. Then another in his stomach, and finally one on the back when O'Brien folded in pain. He went to the ground with a grunt, panting. 

"I'm disappointed Chief. I expected to see the bloodlust in your eyes but all I see is fear. Then again, I guess humans just don't know when to fight back." 

O'Brien picked himself up from the floor, but Garak didn't give him a lot of time to recover. They exchanged another few blows, moving along the promenade. 

The Chief was back on the ground. 

"Come on now, Chief! Don't you want to get back to Deep Space Nine? To your family, your colleagues? Your friend the good Doctor is just the same, he doesn't know when to fight for something either. But maybe an old 'Cardie' is just not worth the effort when you're that much of a genius, hmm?", Garak spat out the last sentence like a curse. 

O'Brien furrowed his brows in an expression of confusion. 

"What?" 

"Just get up and fight!", Garak yelled. 

He had hoped for more of a match, this was frustrating. He kicked O'Brien in the side, who groaned loudly. 

"Maybe it's true. Maybe you're _not_ a soldier anymore." 

"You're right.", blood was running down the Chief's chin, "I'm an engineer." 

He tapped his comm badge twice and a mechanical buzz was to be heard. Then a white hot force blew Garak back against the wall with a deafening bang. His vision went black. 

\--- 

When Garak awoke, he did so with a start. 

Gasping for air, he blinked into the bright lights. His head hurt like a riding hound had trampled on it. 

"Easy, easy.", a calm voice cut through the buzzing in his ears and he felt warm skin on his shoulder. 

After a moment he realized he was lying down on a sort of bed. Then the memories came rushing back and he flinched again, trying to lift his head, which was a bad idea. 

Garak winced in pain and the warm hand gently pressed him down again. 

"You shouldn't get up just yet, the drug was in your system for quite a long time. I managed to get it out, but your body is reacting to the sudden absence." 

Garak slowly turned towards the voice and blinked until his eyes focused. 

"Hello there.", Doctor Bashir smiled. 

Garak tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry. He swallowed and tried again. 

"The... Chief?", he croaked. 

"Miles and Nog are fine. They managed to contact the station while you were out and brought you back." 

Garak made a weak attempt at a nod, but a sting shot up through his chest. 

"Are you in a lot of pain?", Bashir's face showed concern. 

"A bit." 

The Doctor nodded and got a tiny device from a side table, which he put on Garak's forehead. 

"This should help. I think it's best if you rest again." 

"Hmm", Garak murmured, already closing his eyes and gliding off into a dreamless sleep. 

He drifted in and out of consciousness for a long while. Vaguely he felt the presence of nurses entering and leaving the room, checking on his vitals. Mostly he was concerned with reflection on what had happened. It felt surreal, just as everything did right now, a little fuzzy round the edges. Probably another side effect of the drug leaving his body, and the painkilling device. 

The next time he was woken by a light touch on his hand. 

Chief O'Brien stood next to the bed. 

"I thought you might like to know that we salvaged the plasma manifold. It's being installed right now." 

"Mission accomplished.", Garak said. 

"I guess it didn't exactly go the way any of us expected." 

Garak looked to the side, and the Chief left a pause before he continued. 

"You know there's going to be an inquest." 

"Yes, I can imagine.", Garak said, then he added, "Chief, I was hoping to ask a favor." 

"Don't worry, once they know the facts-" 

"It's not about that.", Garak interrupted, "I'd like you to express my... deepest regrets to Amaro's wife." 

She had been a regular customer at his shop. That would probably stop now. 

"I'd talk to her myself but I'm not sure she'd welcome that." 

"I'll tell her.", O'Brien said. 

"I'd appreciate it." 

"Julian tells me the blast broke a couple of your ribs." 

"Well, it could have been worse. If I'd been any closer to that phaser it would have killed me." 

"Don't take this the wrong way, but... that _was_ the plan." 

"I understand.", Garak said, and he did. He would've done the same if the situation had been reversed. 

There was a moment of agreement in the look they exchanged. 

"Um...", the Chief started again and looked behind him before he continued, "There was... something you said during the fight, something about Julian." 

Garak stopped himself from making a face that could betray him. 

"I said a lot of nonsense." 

"You did.", the Chief agreed, "But it was something like 'an old Cardassian not being worth the fight' and I thought it sounded-" 

"I know what it sounds like, Chief.", Garak cut him off. 

O'Brien nodded slowly. 

"You know, it's none of my business, and to be honest I really don't want to know what's going on, or _if_ there's something going on... What I'm trying to say is, I'm not gonna tell Julian if you're worried about that.", he made a pause in which Garak gave him an appreciative nod. 

"But I'm his friend.", he continued, "And I'll tell you now that if you do something to hurt him, well, that explosion was just a taste of what I'm capable of." 

Garak smiled. 

"I wouldn't have expected any less." 

The Chief nodded. 

"See you around." 

Garak nodded back, and then O'Brien left. 

He sighed and closed his eyes again. The bright lights were tiring, but he didn't fall asleep for a while. 

He must've nodded off sometime though, cause when he opened his eyes again, the lights were a little dimmer and there was considerably less noise in the infirmary. 

Without turning his head, he said "Is there something I can do for you, Doctor?" 

Garak heard the sudden rustle of clothing. 

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were awake." 

"Nothing to be sorry about, it's your infirmary and I'm your patient.", Garak turned his head towards the doorway where Bashir still stood. "Please come in." 

Hesitantly the Doctor stepped towards the biobed. 

"How are you feeling?", he asked, eyeing the monitors. 

"Better.", Garak gave him a smile. 

"That's good to hear." 

There was a pause. 

"What time is it?", Garak finally asked. 

"After 2300." 

Garak furrowed his eyeridges. 

"Shouldn't you be off duty?" 

"I'm just about to go.", Bashir said, "Just making a last round.", he smiled. 

Garak nodded. Part of him wanted to keep the conversation going, but the other half didn't know what he could possibly say. 

"You should be fine in a few days.", the Doctor said before Garak could think of anything. "Your blood levels look good, considering the strength of the drug. I've analysed it, and the scientists who engineered it were playing a very dangerous game. No wonder they abandoned the station." 

"That's the First Order for you. Results justify any means." 

Bashir raised his eyebrows. 

"I'm surprised to hear you say that. Usually you're the first one to defend extreme measures if they serve a higher cause." 

"Not if it's something that harms your own people. Besides, the Cardassian military and the Obsidian Order don't always see eye to eye politically." 

"I see.", Bashir nodded thoughtfully. 

"Doctor... do you think I'm a monster?" 

The question burst out of him, and the second he had spoken it, he wished he could swallow it back down again. 

Bashir looked startled. 

"No, of course not." 

"How can you be so sure after what I did? I assume Chief O'Brien filled you in?" 

"He did.", the Doctor said, "But it was the drug that affected you, Garak, you weren't yourself. Anyone in that situation would've reacted like that." 

"Do you really believe that?" 

Bashir didn't answer immediately and instead bit his lip. 

"I thought so.", Garak said quietly. He couldn't bear to look at the Doctor anymore. 

But then a strong hand grabbed his arm and he looked up again. 

"No, listen Garak, this drug is made to exaggerate all of the worst parts of the recipient and bring them to light." 

"I'm not sure how this information is supposed to change anything.", Garak interrupted sarcastically. 

"Let me finish. Everyone has bad sides, some people more, some less. But it's the way we act that defines us. Normally you don't go around the station, taking hostages and killing for fun, because you choose not to. The drug took that choice away." 

Bashir's face looked so earnest Garak almost couldn't bear it. 

"That is a nice sentiment, Doctor, but it was still me who killed Amaro." 

"Well, do you regret it? If you had the chance, would you try and stop it from happening?" 

"I would.", Garak conceded. 

"There you have your answer." 

Garak exhaled shakily. There was nothing he could say in retort to that. The hand on his arm was still there, but now a lot more gentle. 

Eventually he said "When did you become so wise?" 

Bashir grinned. 

"I've learned a lot since we first met. Quite a bit from you, actually." 

Garak smirked. 

"Is 'flattery' recommended as a good bedside manner in the Starfleet medical handbook?" 

The Doctor laughed and perched himself on the edge of the biobed. 

"Well, it's not discouraged, and if it helps the patient...?" 

"I think it does." 

"Then I might just consider implementing this technique more often." 

They smiled at eachother and Garak tried his best not to let anything on about the fluttering feeling in his stomach. 

"I really am sorry about everything that happened.", he said quietly, "If the Chief hadn't stopped me...", he let the ending fade out. 

Bashir wordlessly patted Garak's arm, sympathy radiating from every pore. 

"You know", Garak began again, "with the drug, there was so much anger and hatred inside me. It felt... familiar." 

The Doctor looked surprised. 

"When I was still in the Order, I used to feel like that most of the time.", Garak continued, "Restless, always assuming the worst. The only way to have fun for me was to be cruel." 

He expected Bashir to withdraw his hand and leave in disgust at this confession. But he stayed, and so did the hand on Garak's arm. 

"You don't feel like that anymore? Here on the station?" 

Garak noticed that his hands were trembling. Maybe it was the withdrawal from the drug. 

"No.", he said as calmly as he could, "And I don't think I want to experience it ever again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like writing Miles, even though he's not one of my favourite characters, I should do that more often.  
> Garak is having kind of a revelation, and the two are edging closer together again :)  
> I hope the last part where they're talking isn't too cliché and dramatic. But then again it's Garak, drama lizard supreme^^


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "Call to arms", some dialogue taken from the show

After that, they talked for a little while longer, until Garak couldn't force his eyes to stay open any more, and the Doctor wished him a good night. 

The conversation had been more meaningful than all of the chit-chat they'd had over lunch in the past few weeks. Or ever, really. 

There was this mutual understanding again that had stayed hidden by reservedness, and which Garak had missed dearly. 

Bashir's words hadn't alleviated the disgust Garak felt at his own actions, but it helped to know that the Doctor was at his side. He was a good friend. 

And even if he was only that, a friend, Garak knew he was lucky to have him. 

His own emotions were just something he would have to deal with. 

Ziyal came by the next day. 

Her usual cheeriness was dulled a little. No doubt the events on Empok Nor, even though she hadn't experienced them herself, had shaken her up. Nonetheless her face showed concern, but when she found Garak alert and responsive, relief. 

He felt better than the day before and spent his time sitting up instead of lying down on the biobed. 

Ziyal brought him something to read and a chocolate bar, which Garak welcomed. There wasn't a lot to do in the infirmary, everyone was constantly bustling around and too busy for a chat, so reading would pass the time nicely. 

"Doctor Bashir explained the effect of the drug to me.", Ziyal said, "He told me you were not yourself. From what I heard about the... things that happened on Empok Nor, it doesn't sound like you at all." 

Her eyes were so big and trusting. 

Garak swallowed hard. She had never seen his dark side, only heard of it. For her it must be something distant, like a foreign planet you've read about, but never visited. 

"I'm glad you weren't there to observe it, my dear.", he said, avoiding the unvoiced question. 

It was nice to have someone in his life who had only ever known him as a tailor, he didn't want to destroy that. 

She stayed for two hours and they had a pleasant conversation, Garak always trying to steer it away from Empok Nor. 

When she had left, he turned to the book she brought. 

It was an Andorian mystery tale which Ziyal had picked up from a visiting merchant, and she thought he might like. Indeed it was quite entertaining, and so Garak spent most of the remaining day engrossed in the story. 

In the evening he found Bashir loitering in the doorway again. 

They had seen eachother during the day obviously, since it was the Doctor's infirmary, but the encounters had been of a medical nature, checking the pulse and other vitals. Now, it seemed, the visit was a social one. 

"Am I disturbing you?", Bashir asked, gesturing towards the padd in Garak's hand. 

"Not at all.", Garak smiled, "I need a break from reading anyways, my eyes are starting to strain." 

"You shouldn't overextend yourself, your body is still recovering." 

"I won't, but I just couldn't put it down." 

The Doctor smiled. "So good?" 

"Well, it could've been straightened out here and there, some cuts, but the mystery is surprisingly well-constructed. Of course it is still obvious to see who the murderer is, but all in all not bad." 

Bashir raised his eyebrows. 

"Coming from you, that's high praise. Let me guess, Cardassian?" 

"Andorian." 

The Doctor's eyebrows rose even higher. 

"Well now I need to contact the author and congratulate them in person. They managed the impossible! Such a positive assessment for a non-Cardassian novel from Elim Garak? That's something to mark in the calendar." 

Garak tried to hide a smirk. 

"Are you calling me overly critical, Doctor?" 

"I wouldn't dream of it." 

Both grinned. 

"Oh, and by the way", Bashir continued, "there's no need to hide the chocolate under the mattress, it will only melt and create a mess. You're allowed to eat anything you want, as long as you get all your vitamins." 

"There's no way you could know about that, you weren't even in the room!" 

The Doctor's eyes sparkled with humor. "Maybe you're not as sneaky as you think. Genetically enhanced, remember?", he pointed towards himself. "And I saw it in Ziyal's hand when she came in." 

Garak pouted. "That doesn't count." 

Bashir laughed. 

"If you feel well enough to get up tomorrow, you can leave the infirmary the day after.", he said, checking the data on the monitor, "But you should still take it easy for a few days. Your ribs are healing nicely.", now he waved a tricorder over Garak's chest. 

"As the Doctor orders.", Garak said and after a short pause continued, "Do you have any information on when the hearing is going to take place?" 

"Not anything concrete. It's to be held when you're fully recovered, so the Captain is waiting on my OK." 

"I see.", Garak nodded. 

"You don't have anything to worry about.", the Doctor said, looking worried himself, "It will be a small affair, only one admiral is coming to oversee the whole thing, the rest is under Sisko's jurisdiction." 

"The Chief also tried to reassure me, but I'm actually not agonizing too much about it. I mean the last hearing only brought me six months in a holding cell, although that was for trying to wipe out the entire population of a planet, how much worse can this be?" 

Bashir stared at him with a blank expression. 

"I'm sorry", Garak said, averting his gaze, "that was in poor taste." 

"It was.", the Doctor agreed but then smiled, "A few years ago you wouldn't have apologized for that." 

He was right. 

But before Garak could say anything, Bashir continued. 

"I'll go home and fall into a coma now.", he said, bringing the tone back to friendly banter and stretching his arms over his head. "Are you good for the night, or do you need anything?" 

"No, all fine.", Garak smiled, "I think I'll read some more and then go to sleep as well." 

"All right, good night then." 

"Good night, Doctor." 

He was alone again, at least in the room. Outside, the night shift was bustling around. 

Garak tried to return to his book, but he found his thoughts straying back to Bashir's comment. 

_'A few years ago you wouldn't have apologized for it.'_

It was strange how the change had crept up on him. Almost his whole life he had only known the Obsidian Order, and the mindset that came with it, so who was he turning into now? Or was he reverting back to some earlier version? 

On the flight to Empok Nor he had said that people suddenly trusting him made him uneasy. But now that they would probably reconsider, after word got out about what he had done, he felt a pang of loss in the pit of his stomach. 

Living in a community for so long without being fully accepted apparently left some marks. 

He sighed, put the padd away and turned on his side. For a while his thoughts continued to circle, but then sleep won out and his eyes fell shut. 

The next morning, Garak's melancholy from the night before had simmered down, and he felt good enough to get up and walk around the room for a bit. His muscles were grateful for the exercise, but he was still considerably weaker than normal. 

The Doctor was pleased, and reassured him that the strength would return. 

"Is it possible that I could return to my quarters today, rather than tomorrow?", Garak asked, "I feel like I would recover more quickly there. The lights in here are very bright." 

"Hmm.", made Bashir, "You might have a point there. Sadly we can't turn the lights down in the infirmary just for one patient.", he shrugged apologetically, "I'll give you a once-over and if that looks good you're free to go." 

Garak agreed and the Doctor went to work thoroughly, scanning every last scale. 

Bashir finished his examination with a smile. 

"Looks like you'll get your wish. But I'll check in on you in the evening, just to be sure." 

Garak nodded and then quickly gathered his belongings to leave. After all the time he had spent in a runabout, then Empok Nor, and now the infirmary, he was looking forward to the warmth of his own quarters. There was just no place like home. 

When Bashir, as he had promised, came by in the evening, Garak had curled up on the sofa under a thick blanket with the Andorian novel. 

As the door chime rang, he started. He must've dozed off. 

"Come in.", he called and the door swooshed open. 

Bashir stepped in and grinned broadly when he saw Garak. "I see you're taking my medical advice seriously for once." 

"Have I ever not done that?", Garak pulled a shocked face. 

"Do you want me to list the incidents chronologically or alphabetically? You know I can." 

"All right, all right.", Garak raised his hands, "I admit that occasionally I did not respect your opinion as CMO of this station as much as I should have. But as you see, I learned my lesson." 

"Yes I see.", the Doctor was still grinning. 

"What is it?" 

Bashir shrugged. "Nothing. You just look so comfortable, so... relaxed. It's rare to see you like that." 

"Well, it's good to be inside my own walls again.", Garak said, not commenting on the rarity of his relaxation. 

The Doctor stepped over and put his med kit on the coffee table to rummage around in it until he had found what he was looking for. He was still using the bag Garak had made for him, now noticeably more stained. The blood and... various other fluids of aliens Garak didn't particularly want to think about, were apparently immune to the waterproofing he had done to the cloth. But it was visible that Bashir had at least tried to take good care of it. Attempts had been made to clean the multicoloured dots and splashes, some more successful than others. 

The Doctor scanned Garak from head to toe with the tricorder and then nodded. 

"Your vitals still look good. They even improved some more since this morning." 

"I do feel a lot better.", Garak agreed. 

"Very good.", Bashir smiled. Then there was an awkward pause. 

"Doctor...", Garak began a little hesitantly "would you care to stay a while and join me for a cup of tea? I do enjoy some time alone, but even I occasionally get tired of my own company." 

He was prepared for a no, but Bashir's face lit up in relief. 

"Of course." 

So this was hopefully the last remainder of the argument eliminated. It felt like it had been months, but in reality it was only a few weeks since their falling out in the replimat. 

They sat and talked for a while, about everything and nothing, and temporarily Garak forgot about Empok Nor, the upcoming hearing and the jumbled mess that was his current state of mind. He was just in the moment, enjoying the conversation. 

\--- 

The day of the trial came and went. 

Both Bashir and the Chief were summoned, to respectively give their medical opinion and account of the events on Empok Nor. 

They agreed in their view that Garak's actions had been triggered by the experimental drug the group had found, and the Doctor provided scientific evidence that the substance only affected Cardassians. He had written a whole study on the components of the drug, which neither Sisko nor the Starfleet admiral, who was there to oversee the hearing, looked too thrilled to read. 

In the end there were no consequences for Garak, just as both O'Brien and Bashir had assured him. 

He walked away from the hearing with no emotion about it at all. There was no relief, since he hadn't been anxious about the result. 

It didn't change anything. The remorse he felt when he thought about killing Amaro was still there, no matter if it was confirmed that the drug had made him do it or not. 

That was just something he would have to live with. 

Amaro wasn't the first one he had killed, not by a long shot. But before him, Garak always had a reason. He had done it, as he had done everything really, for the greater good. For the Obsidian Order, and by that extension for Cardassia. He had never killed purely for fun, each and every person had deserved what they had gotten. 

Now when he looked back he wondered if that was really true. 

Distraction came his way in the form of Leeta and Rom announcing to get married sooner than anticipated. Garak had known about their engagement, but had thought they would take their time. Then again, these were uncertain times. 

As the resident tailor, he wasn't at all surprised that they asked him to provide a wedding dress for Leeta, and in all honesty Garak was glad for the work. Especially for a joyous occasion like this. 

Though he soon regretted having taken the commission. The couple wasn't at all in agreement what an appropriate garment should look like. 

When the second appointment concerning the dress moved closer, Garak asked Ziyal to accompany him. She had good taste and would back him up if Rom and Leeta should decide on something truly hideous that Garak would only be able to manufacture with his eyes closed. 

A good decision, Garak thought, when they had arrived at example 153, the 'Risian traditional', and the will to live slowly oozed out of him. 

"What do you think?", Rom asked his bride-to-be, holding the padd at an angle so she could see. 

"I don't know." Leeta's tone wasn't at all thrilled. "What do you think?" 

"I like it.", a toothy grin spread across Rom's face, still looking at the picture. "Don't you?" 

"Rom, it's two handkerchiefs and a loincloth!" 

She wasn't wrong. 

"I suppose we could lose the handkerchiefs.", Rom managed to grab the wrong end of the stick. 

Outrage formed on Leeta's face. "Ferengi tradition or no Ferengi tradition, I am not going to be naked at my wedding." 

"Who said anything about naked? You'll still have the loincloth." 

Ignoring the statement, Leeta handed Garak the padd. "Please show us something else." 

"There is nothing else.", Garak said with strained composure, "I've shown you 153 different wedding dresses, from Tellarite modern to Risian traditional, and you've hated them all." 

"Well, I like number 38.", Leeta said. 

"Number 38?", Rom asked disbelieving, "It had more layers than a Baduviam tapestry." 

"It was elegant." 

"It was bulky." 

Garak was secretly impressed that Rom seemed familiar with Baduviam tapestries, but he forced himself back into the moment. 

"I liked 64.", Ziyal tried. 

"64?" She earned disgusted looks from both of them. 

"Well, at least they agree on something.", Garak commented. 

Ziyal sighed. "Why don't you just let Garak design a dress on his own? You know whatever he comes up with will be beautiful." 

"My dear, I find your blind adoration both flattering and disturbing.", Garak told her and then turned toward the happy couple, "But she does have a point." 

Right then they were interrupted by Quark, in whose bar they had met up, calling Leeta. 

"That 15-minute break you asked for was up an hour ago.", he yelled from the staircase. 

Rom shuffled over to him. "Brother, what do you think of this dress?" 

"I don't want to think about it.", Quark snatched the padd out of Rom's hand, "All I know is that any marriage where the female is allowed to speak and wear clothing is doomed to failure." 

Ziyal, next to Garak, made a derisive noise. 

Quark turned to Leeta and snarled "Your dabo table awaits." 

She huffed, then something seemed to catch her eye. 

"There he is. Let's talk to him." 

Garak followed her gaze out of the bar, where Chief O'Brien and Captain Sisko walked side by side, talking. 

"Now?" 

Rom's voice had climbed an octave. 

"Now, Rom.", Leeta insisted. And with that they were out of the bar. 

"What was that all about?", Ziyal asked. 

"I think they want to ask Captain Sisko to officiate their wedding.", Garak answered, relieved that the discussion about the dress was over. For now. 

"Oh, because he's the Emissary? How nice, I hope he agrees." 

"I hope so too. Maybe then they will care less about the damn dress and finally decide on one." 

Ziyal giggled. 

"You know, I meant what I said just now. If you design something nice and simple for them I'm sure they'll like it. Maybe they were just overwhelmed by all the choice. I know I get like that sometimes, and then I end up so frustrated I just don't choose anything at all." 

Garak sighed. "I think you might be right, my dear. 150 dresses are a little much." 

"153", she corrected with a grin and he groaned. 

"I better get to work then.", he said, while watching the crowd form in front of the portholes on the promenade. 

What he didn't say was 'who knows how much time I have left for it'. 

Like clockwork, the wormhole opened and a whole convoy of Dominion ships entered Bajoran space, as they had done for days now. Heading for Cardassia, building a fleet. 

Ziyal had noticed as well, and her face showed worry. 

Garak ripped himself out of his own thoughts and forced a smile. 

"Would you like to assist me in the designing process? You have an artistic eye, and four eyes famously see more than two." 

Her mouth broke out into a grin and her eyes began to sparkle. 

"I'd love to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've arrived at the end of season 5 now, yay!  
> There are some intense chapters coming up.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "Call to arms", some dialogue taken from the show

They sketched and threw around ideas for a few hours, then had dinner. 

The atmosphere in the replimat wasn't the usual relaxed and noisy one Garak had gotten used to in the past years. Only a few people sat at the tables that were normally crowded this time of day. 

All the Starfleet officers wore concerned expressions and talked in hushed tones to one-another. 

A similar mood had been sticking around for the last few days, but this was a clear increase. Something was going on. Something to do with the Dominion probably. 

Garak made a mental note to ask Bashir about it the next day at their lunch meeting. 

For the time being, he tried to distract Ziyal from worrying too much as best as he could. 

She had also picked up on the general doom, but for her it wasn't just a question if they were going to get attacked or not. Dukat, the current leader of Cardassia was her father, which complicated matters considerably. Would he really allow an attack on the place his daughter lived? And what would happen to her should the combined fleet of Cardassians and Dominion succeed? 

Garak could see that she felt somehow lost, swept around by forces bigger than her. 

But the only thing he could do for her right now was talk about something else and hope for the best. 

The next day brought a red, blinking announcement on his computer panel when he got out of bed. 

All outgoing messages were canceled until further notice. So the situation really had worsened. 

"All right Doctor, what is going on?", he put Bashir on the spot as soon as they had sat down with their lunch. 

"What do you mean?", the Doctor asked innocently while knowing exactly what Garak was alluding to. 

"Well, is there going to be a war soon? Should I start planning my escape?", Garak said in the most jovial tone while cutting up some broccoli. 

Bashir sighed. "You know I can't tell you anything Starfleet-related that hasn't been officially sanctioned, we've had that conversation. And where would you even go?" 

"Oh I'm sure I'd find a place. But who am I going to tell? All outgoing messages have been canceled, didn't you get the notification? I'd like to know why my business is being compromised like this. I can't even send out an order to my Betazoid chiffon supplier." 

The Doctor smiled a little, then he sighed again. "Well... I guess everyone's gonna know about it soon anyways.", he lowered his voice and looked suspiciously left and right for any eavesdroppers, "The Romulans have signed a non-agression-pact with the Dominion." 

Garak sucked in a sharp breath. 

"Exactly.", commented Bashir. 

"That makes them the newest in a long list, and one of the biggest allies to the Dominion." 

The Doctor nodded. "Captain Sisko talked to Starfleet headquarters and they agreed that the convoys through the wormhole must be stopped. We're trying to find an effective way to mine the entrance." 

"That's not going to be easy.", Garak said. 

"I know, but I trust that Miles, Jadzia and Rom will find a way." 

"It might start a war.", said Garak. 

"And this station will be the first target.", Bashir added. 

Garak nodded. They both looked at their food glumly. His appetite had vanished all of a sudden. 

Five days later, the Dominion sent a Vorta to talk to Sisko. They had noticed the self-replicating mines that the team had come up with, and started to implement. 

Garak gathered the meeting hadn't been going well, when a few hours later, the Captain announced that Bajor had signed a treaty with the Dominion, and all Bajoran personnel was going to get evacuated. 

"Are you sure you won't come with me?", asked Ziyal for the third time when Garak escorted her to the docking ring. 

"I don't think I'd be very welcome on Bajor.", he said. 

"I'm not going to be very popular there, either." 

"My dear, you're half-Bajoran.", he grabbed her hands, "So at least half of you is going to be accepted. I'm sure that Major Kira's friends will take good care of you.", he smiled to encourage her. 

"Well, what's going to happen to you?" 

"Oh, well, let me tell you a story. I once knew a Cardassian, a dashing, handsome young man with a promising career. But one day, through no fault of his own, he found himself exiled and alone with nowhere to turn. But did he give up?" 

She grinned. 

"No.", he answered his own question, "He struck upon a brilliant plan. Instead of fleeing for the rest of his life, he sought shelter in the one place no one expected him to go... in a stronghold of his people's most hated enemies. There, surrounded by hostile strangers, he built a life. And there, against all odds, against the merciless logic of the universe itself, he thrived." 

"By becoming the greatest tailor in the galaxy.", Ziyal added with a twinkle in her eyes. 

"And the moral of the story, my dear, is to never underestimate my gift for survival." 

She nodded, but her face became sad again. They had stopped in front of the entry to the shuttle that would take her to Bajor. Then suddenly she pressed her lips to his mouth. 

The kiss didn't last long before Ziyal broke it and hugged Garak tightly, burying her head against his neck. He was a little taken aback, but held her close nonetheless. 

Then they parted and Garak smiled at her. Without another word she stepped into the entranceway to the shuttle. 

Lost in thought he walked back to his shop. 

As he expected, Leeta came to ask for her wedding dress. He'd had a feeling that it would be needed sooner rather than later, and had finished it way before the date. They probably wanted to perform the ceremony with Captain Sisko while they still had a chance, before they had to get on the shuttle to Bajor. 

In the end, Garak had chosen a very simple design with a low neck and a deep cutout in the back. Half-length green sleeves and a colourful fabric, matching Leeta's sunny personality. 

There were tears in her eyes when she held it in her arms like a treasure. 

"It's beautiful." 

"In that case it's just right for you, my dear.", Garak said and she flashed a smile at him. 

"Thank you." 

"Not at all. I'll extend my well-wishes to you and your soon-to-be husband now, in case we don't see eachother before you leave." 

"Thank you", she said again, "Aren't you leaving? You're not Starfleet." 

"No, I'm not.", he said, "But I'm not Bajoran either. I'll find a way to get by." 

She nodded and hesitated a bit before she spoke again. 

"Then could you do me a favor? Keep an eye on Julian. You two are good friends, right?" 

"We are." 

"If only half of what he told me about you is true, you should be able to keep him out of harm's way.", she grinned. 

"I'll do my best.", he said, a bit puzzled. 

"That's a relief. Take care.", she pressed his hand, sincere worry in her eyes. Then she hurried out of the shop, cradling her dress like a baby. 

Without anything else to do, Garak strolled down the promenade. Slowly shuttles were leaving for Bajor. 

When the last ship had disappeared out of sight, there was a surge of activity. People with grim faces walked across the station purposefully, carrying out tasks and giving orders. 

Garak found Odo, perched on a bannister, looking down on Starfleet personnel readying themselves for battle. 

"I must say, Constable, I admire your composure. You're an island of tranquility in a sea of chaos." 

"What I am is useless.", he retorted, "My entire staff has been evacuated to Bajor." 

"I'm not feeling too terribly useful myself at this moment. But if it'd make you feel any better, you could always deputize me." 

Odo scoffed. "I'm sure if the Jem'Hadar board the station, you'll make yourself useful." 

"It's ironic.", Garak said, "When the Klingons attacked the station, Gul Dukat and I were fighting side by side. At one point, he turned his back to me, and I must admit that for a moment, he made a very tempting target." 

"You'd shoot a man in the back?" 

"Well, it's the safest way, isn't it?", Garak smiled, "But then I thought, 'Well, no, I can't fight all these Klingons by myself', so I let him live." 

"And now you regret it.", Odo stated. 

"Ah, my dear Constable, before this day is over, everyone on this station is going to regret it." 

Odo didn't say anything, but his face told Garak that he was right. 

Together they stood in silence, watching the porthole, until the Dominion ships came into sight. 

To Garak's surprise, the station shields withstood the enemy fire, but still every blow shook their home fiercely. 

He had brought a disruptor, should it come to hand-to-hand combat, but evidently that wasn't necessary. 

The station's weapons range got a few Dominion and Cardassian ships, but there were just too many. 

General Martok swooped in last minute with his Bird of Prey to guard the Defiant, which was still completing the minefield. When they were successful, the mines disappeared, or better, turned invisible. 

Apparently that was the signal Captain Sisko had been waiting for, since just a few seconds later came the signal for all Starfleet personnel to evacuate. A wise decision, there was no way they could've held the station against such an overwhelming fleet with no backup. 

The Constable turned to Garak. 

"It would be wise for you to go with them, I don't think Gul Dukat would return the favor of not shooting you when he gets the chance." 

"You're probably right.", Garak agreed, "So you're planning to stay?" 

Odo gestured towards his uniform. 

"I'm with the Bajoran Militia, the government signed a treaty with the Dominion. And I'm still the station's Chief of Security, if Gul Dukat likes it or not." 

Garak nodded. 

"Then do me a favor, Constable, and don't make the same mistake I did. If you get the chance, shoot the bastard." 

Odo smiled at him grimly. 

"Take care, Garak." 

"You too, Odo." 

They shook hands and then Garak hurried towards the docking ring. 

Somehow he managed to weasel himself between Starfleet officers, and onto the Defiant, where he caught the speech Captain Sisko was giving to the remaining Bajoran personnel and alien shop keepers, via the ship's screen. 

"When I first took command of this post, all I wanted was to be somewhere else... anywhere but here. But now, five years later, this has become my home, and you have become my family. And leaving this station... leaving you... is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. But this war isn't over yet. I want you to know that while we were keeping the Dominion occupied, a Starfleet-Klingon task force crossed the border into Cardassia and destroyed the Dominion shipyards on Torros III. Your sacrifices... our sacrifices made that victory possible. But no victory can make this moment any easier for me. And I promise, I will not rest until I stand with you again... here... in this place where I belong." 

Garak had never felt any particular awe towards Sisko, they disagreed on many political points, but now he couldn't help but feel strangely moved by his speech. There was heartfelt honesty in his words, in his inclusion of every alien of every background who had made their home on this small station. And with surprise, Garak realized he was counting himself as part of this weird patchwork family. 

A pause, then the Captain tapped his comm badge. 

"Sisko to Defiant." 

"Standing by, sir.", Chief O'Brien answered him. 

"One to beam aboard." 

"Aye, Captain." 

And in the next moment he was standing in the transporter room. 

When he stepped off the pad he went right into action. 

"Are we ready?" 

"As soon as you give the word, sir.", O'Brien said. 

Then the Captain spotted him. "Mr Garak?", he asked. 

"I'd like to come along, if you don't mind.", Garak said. "You never know when you might need a good tailor. And the simple fact is, I have nowhere else to go." 

"Welcome aboard.", Sisko said simply with a nod of the head. Then he was called by Lieutenant Dax from the bridge. The Dominion fleet was coming around for another attack. 

But the Defiant was able to weave itself around the approaching ships, dodging their fire until they were free and in open space. 

Where the journey would lead them, Garak did not know, but he felt certain that this wasn't the last time he had seen Deep Space Nine. He would return. _They_ would return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing the small interactions between Garak and Leeta, and Garak and Odo at the end of the chapter.   
> The upcoming arc of episodes is such a good one, and one of my favourite storylines in all of Star Trek. Just the symbol of Sisko leaving his baseball behind to signal that he'll be back is so badass. And the speech, I just... ;_;
> 
> Then there's also The Kiss in this chapter. I imagine someone might've seen that... ;)


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "A time to stand", some dialogue from the show

Where the journey led them was a Federation Starbase. There, Captain Sisko apparently received new orders. 

The crew got a short few days to recover, but then was sent out on a mission, and that cycle repeated itself over the next weeks. 

Quarters on the Defiant were cramped and not really built for living, just existing and sleeping. Garak had to share a room with a young ensign who didn't seem at all pleased with the situation. Eventually Garak convinced him that he had no interest whatsoever to murder him in his sleep, but it took a while. 

Sisko made good use of Garak's skills and kept him busy. There wasn't a chance for long chats or even an uninterrupted meal most of the time, so he didn't see much of Bashir, who seemed to live in sickbay these days. 

When they did meet in the corridor or in the mess hall for a few minutes, the Doctor looked stressed and was short-spoken. No wonder, there was an endless stream of wounded people every time they encountered enemy ships. Thankfully not many losses. 

Garak himself felt the effect of the high-stress situation. There was a constant tension in his shoulders where he couldn't reach, and at night he had trouble going to sleep because his mind kept running in circles. 

All of that worsened over time, and about three months into the war a bruise down the side of his head entered into the mix. 

So he went to sickbay and waited for Bashir. 

"Ah, there you are.", Garak greeted the Doctor when he finally showed up, sleeves shoved to his elbows and open collar. Bashir's hair was pushed back, as if he had combed through it with his hands carelessly. He looked rugged and _very_ handsome. 

Immediately Garak reprimanded his brain to focus. Maybe that was a side-effect of the bruise. 

"I was beginning to give up hope, Doctor. I would think that all those lunches we've shared would have entitled me to preferential treatment." 

"Look", Bashir said without his usual humored response towards Garak's comments, "I have twelve wounded officers and crewmen out there, all of whom are in a lot worse shape than you, Garak." 

Someone was in a very bad mood. 

"Well, if you're trying to cheer me up, it's working. I feel better already.", Garak tried again while Bashir was busy entering something into the computer console. 

"What happened?", the Doctor asked, still frowning at the monitor and not even looking at the bruise. 

"I was studying some star charts for Captain Sisko during the last assault, when I had a sudden and rather violent encounter with a bulkhead." 

Bashir looked up briefly. "You'll live." 

"I wish I shared your confidence. I'm sure my head will heal, but the way this war is going, I wouldn't bet on any of us living to a ripe old age." 

While Garak had spoken, the Doctor had finally picked up one of his instruments and was scanning the side of his head. The throbbing pain already lessened. 

"I admit the odds are not good, but they could be worse." 

Garak was slowly but surely getting fed up with Bashir's snippy answers. "Ah let me guess.", he said, "You've used your genetically enhanced brain to _calculate_ our chances for survival." 

"It really wasn't that difficult. I simply started with a binomial-" 

"I'm _really_ not interested, Doctor.", Garak interrupted him, "Ever since it's become public knowledge that you're genetically engineered, you've used every opportunity to show off." 

"I have nothing to hide anymore.", Bashir shoved Garak's head back into position, who had turned slightly, so he could continue the treatment of the bruise. "I might as well use what I have." 

Finally the Doctor removed the instrument and Garak turned around to face him. "Well... what _are_ our chances? Over 50 percent?" 

"32.7.", was the cold answer. 

"I'm sorry I asked.", Garak murmured, taken aback. "You're certain about that figure?" 

"Do you want me to take you through the entire set of calculations?" 

Finally there was that spark in Bashir's eyes again. 

"Not really.", Garak sighed, "'Genetically engineered', indeed." 

"Excuse me?", the Doctor leaned into his personal space. 

"Well, look at you.", Garak said, "You act as if you haven't a care in the world. It's exactly that kind of smug, superior attitude that makes people like you so... unpopular.", it was a low blow, he knew that. 

"Are you trying to insult me?", the Doctor's voice was annoyed, not hurt. 

"'A 32.7 percent chance of survival'", Garak repeated, "I call _that_ insulting." 

"Don't take it so personally, Garak." Bashir was holding a different instrument to his head now. "It's strictly a matter of mathematics." 

"No, it's strictly a matter of our lives.", Garak burst out. "You're not genetically engineered. You're a Vulcan." 

"If I'm a Vulcan then how do you explain my boyish smile?" 

So _now_ he chose to join in on the banter? 

"Not so boyish anymore, Doctor.", Garak quipped. 

Bashir chuckled, then he sighed, getting serious again. 

"Believe me, I wish the odds were better as well." 

The dark circles under his eyes were suddenly very prominent. 

"I apologize for my outburst, Doctor, that was out of line." 

Bashir shook his head. "I'm sorry as well, I think the war is taking more of a toll on every one of us than I thought." 

Garak nodded in agreement. 

Then the Doctor finally put the medical device down. 

"As good as new.", he smiled. 

"Thank you.", Garak said, "Then it's back to the star charts for me.", he pulled a grimace and Bashir laughed. 

"Maybe this time you should wear a helmet, might be safer." 

"And risk your running out of patients?", Garak asked with a smirk and raised eyeridge. "I don't think so. Also this way I get to actually talk to you besides exchanging hurried greetings in the hallways." 

"Are you implying that you bumped your head on the bulkhead on purpose just for a chat?" 

"Tsk tsk, Doctor.", Garak tutted, "That's a little arrogant of you to conclude, don't you agree?" 

For a second it seemed like Garak had tripped him up, and Bashir grinned a little embarrassed. No matter what Garak had said before, that boyish smile was still there. 

"But", he continued with a smirk, " _If_ that had been my intention, the plan would've succeeded, wouldn't it?" 

"It's still quite a dumb plan.", Bashir said. 

"Any plan that works is a good plan.", Garak retorted. 

"I guess you're right about that.", the Doctor acknowledged his defeat. 

Suddenly the computer console beeped. It was the noise of an icoming message. 

Bashir stepped over to read it, and while he did, his eyebrows knit closely together. 

"Doctor?", Garak asked softly. That couldn't be good news. 

"It's the seventh fleet.", Bashir pressed out between gritted teeth, "Only 14 ships came back." 

Garak was shocked. "14 out of 112? That's..." 

"Madness." 

Grief and anger were playing over the Doctor's face, fighting for dominance. 

"I need to tell the Captain.", he said, a dangerous undertone in his otherwise calm voice. 

Worried, Garak put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Doctor." 

For a moment the ice in Bashir's gaze broke. "Thank you, Garak.", he put his own hand over Garak's and let it stay there for a few seconds. Then it slipped off and he walked out of sickbay. 

Only 14 ships. That didn't look promising. 

Slowly Garak went back to work on the star charts. 

In time, they reached the next Starbase, to get their new assignment. 

During the wait until it was announced, Garak used the time for a little walk around. After the cramped quarters of the Defiant, the open space of the Starbase was a welcome change of scenery. 

At the resident bar, which was a much brighter place than Quark's, he ordered a fancy-sounding drink with a tiny umbrella. He felt he had earned it. 

After a few hours, Captain Sisko gathered his crew around him. First they held a minute of silence for the fallen of the seventh fleet, then Sisko spoke up. 

"I'm afraid I have to leave you for a while." 

A whisper ran through the crowd. 

"I have been given a mission, on which Chief O'Brien, Lieutenant Dax, Doctor Bashir and Ensign Nog will accompany me. That is all I can tell you. For the time being, the Defiant will get a new Captain, but you, the crew, will all stay together." 

Relief flooded the room. 

"I'm looking forward to return to my post as soon as this assignment is fulfilled." 

Someone in the cowd yelled "Good luck, Captain!", and others joined in. 

"Thank you.", Sisko nodded graciously "I wish all of you the same." 

Then they were dismissed. 

Garak waited until the room was almost cleared before he stepped up to the group consisting of Sisko, Bashir, Lieutenant Dax and the Chief. 

"Excuse me, Captain?" 

Sisko turned around to him. 

"Yes, Mr Garak?" 

"I just wondered, since I'm not part of the Defiant crew in the traditional sense..." 

"You are more than welcome to stay here on the Starbase.", the Captain had apparently anticipated the question and wore a knowing smile, "I have already arranged for guest quarters. The Station commander would be very happy to get some help decoding Cardassian messages." 

"Ah, very thoughtful of you.", Garak smiled back, relieved. 

The quarters were positively luxurious compared to what Garak had had to endure for three months on the Defiant. The best part was, he didn't have to share. 

But even though, when he stretched out on the bed and settled in for the night, he just couldn't get to sleep. He was tired enough, but his body still felt restless. 

After two frustrating hours of staring at the ceiling, Garak sighed and got up. Maybe a walk would help. 

So he strolled along the Starbase's version of a promenade. All the lights were dimmed down for night mode, but as had been the case on Deep Space Nine, there were still people up and about, though the shops were closed. 

When he reached the entry to the mess hall, Garak decided on a whim to see if by any chance this Starbase had a pattern for Red Leaf tea in their replicator database. So far he hadn't had any luck, either on the Defiant or all the Space Stations they had been to. Maybe they had at least a good alternative, this Earl Grey stuff was simply undrinkable. 

Upon entering, he found an almost empty room, there were just a few tables occupied by people looking like they had just been dragged out of bed. Which was probably not too far off, night-shift wasn't too popular. Only the clattering of cutlery could be heard. 

Garak made his way to the far end of the big room, towards the replicators, when he noticed a familiar face. 

Doctor Bashir was sitting at a table in the corner, pouring over a pile of padds, a cup of what looked to be coffee in front of him. His eyelids were drooping, and Garak was pretty sure the dark rings under his eyes could be seen from the small moon that shared the orbit of the Starbase. 

Without ordering a tea, Garak approached Bashir. 

"Hello Doctor, what a coincidence to meet you here." 

He looked up, disoriented for a second, then Bashir recognized him. 

"Oh, hi Garak.", he rubbed his eyes. 

"Are you still working?", Garak asked, "Doesn't your shift start in a few hours?" 

"Mhmmyes.", Bashir sighed, "I couldn't sleep." 

Garak sat down on the chair opposite him. 

"I know the feeling.", he said wearily, "I think it might be because I've gotten used to the constant motion and engine noise of the Defiant. That's why I'm here, I thought a short walk and hot tea might help." 

He threw a pointed glance at Bashir's coffee cup. " _This_ , on the other hand is the opposite of helping." 

The Doctor dismissed him with a wave of the hand. "I'm used to raktajino, in comparison this is more like flavoured water." 

Garak decided not to point out that essentially every coffee-like drink was nothing more than flavoured water, and so was tea, as well as almost any liquid that could be consumed really. 

"You as a Doctor shouldn't need a reminder that caffeine, no matter how small the dosis, is still a stimulant." 

Bashir sighed again. 

"Yeah, you're right of course, it's just...", he paused. Garak didn't say anything and waited for him to continue. 

"It's just that I can't stop thinking about the seventh fleet. When I lie down in bed my mind just won't stop spinning. 14 ships. 14 ships, Garak! That's 98 ships lost, 98 crews, so many lives!", his voice had gotten progressively louder and his hands had balled into fists on the tabletop. 

The clattering of cutlery had stopped and the few people around them were shooting them glances. 

"Maybe we should discuss this somewhere else.", Garak suggested in a muted tone. 

Bashir looked around, realizing his outburst. "Yes. Maybe that's better." 

"I will escort you to your quarters if that's all right with you.", Garak said "You should at least _try_ to sleep instead of keeping yourself awake on purpose." 

The Doctor nodded and gathered the padds, then they left the mess hall. 

"I know I should try to keep it together more.", Bashir said while they walked along the promenade, rubbing his temple, "Ironically I once tried to help Jake with that when he was freaking out in that attack on Ajilion Prime. I should really know better, be more prepared. I've been in a lot of dangerous situations and lost many patients, but..." 

"War is a different beast.", Garak finished the sentence. 

The Doctor nodded solemnly. 

"The sheer number of people dying." 

Garak felt guilt burning hot in his stomach for accusing Bashir of being cold and unfeeling earlier that day. It must've been his method of coping with the situation, which was now breaking down rapidly. 

"Most people can't even comprehend such large numbers.", Garak said, "If it's one or two people dying, that's tragic, ten or twenty a massacre. But thousands of lives lost is something most brains aren't capable of processing. Yours can." 

The Doctor looked at him questioning. 

"Maybe that is not such a bad thing.", Garak continued, "You're not going numb in the face of overwhelming misery." 

Bashir pulled up one corner of his mouth. "But there's not a lot I can do, so that's quite useless." 

"What you can do", said Garak, perfectly timed for their arrival at the Doctor's door, "is not overexhausting yourself so you can do your job. I hear that secret mission is very important." 

"Nice try.", Bashir grinned, "I might be sleep-deprived but I'm not telling you anything about the mission." 

"Ah, well.", Garak smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Bashir yawned. 

"I bid you good night, Doctor." 

He stepped a little closer to put a hand on Bashir's arm, squeezing it by way of encouragement and saying farewell. The Doctor smiled drowsily. 

There was a moment, then he leaned in. Just as his lips had touched Garak's, light as a feather, he snapped back abruptly. 

"Oh no, Garak I'm so sorry!", Bashir's eyes were wide, suddenly very awake. 

Perplexed was surely an understatement for how Garak felt, but it was the next best term coming to mind. It took all of his strength to not just grab this stupid human and continue what he had begun, and instead ask "Whatever are you apologizing for, my dear?" 

"Well...I mean...", the Doctor gestured wildly between the two of them, his sleep-deprivation obviously affecting the area of his brain responsible for speech. 

Since there wasn't a lot of sense to get out of Bashir, Garak feeling quite tired himself, decided to cut the matter short. He made sure nobody they knew was watching before he gently grabbed the flailing hands and connected their lips again. 

The Doctor was still in a kind of frenzy, but then slowly melted into the kiss. Though just when it became a little more heated, he pushed away. 

"Garak, wait...", he breathed. 

"You're right, we should probably continue this inside." 

"That's not what I... ", the Doctor protested, then went on, "Yeah, maybe. I think I need to sit down.", he looked thoroughly bewildered. 

Bashir's guest quarters looked just like Garak's, the same layout and decoration. The Doctor gestured towards the small sofa and coffee table. 

"Have a seat." 

Garak did so while Bashir put the padds he was still carrying away. Then the Doctor slowly walked over and slumped down next to Garak. Without any preamble he asked "So...what about Ziyal?" 

"What about her?", Garak threw the question back. 

"You know what I mean, Garak.", a little note of irritation had crept into Bashir's voice. 

"I have told you before that Ziyal and I are friends, nothing more." 

The Doctor's face scrunched up in disbelief. 

"What you said was, and I quote: 'And what is it to you?'." 

"To which you didn't reply anything." 

"No. I didn't.", Bashir said. 

"Do you have anything to say now?", Garak pressed. 

"I... I'm not sure what you want from me, Garak.", the tone of annoyance had increased. "If this is some game or a scheme I don't want any part of it. Look I'm sorry I kissed you, but you don't have to be cruel about it." 

"My dear, you misunderstand." 

"No, I don't. I saw you, Garak. When the station got evacuated, before Ziyal got on the shuttle." 

Ah, so that was it. 

"And I'm happy for you.", the Doctor prattled on even though he didn't look happy at all, "Really. The kiss just now was a slip-up and it won't happen again, I promise, all the stress from the war-" 

"Doctor, listen.", Garak interrupted firmly, grabbing Bashir by the shoulders. "Ziyal is a nice girl, and yes we spent a lot of time together. She occasionally expressed having feelings for me and when we said goodbye she kissed me. _However_ , that doesn't mean I share her emotions. Maybe I should have rejected her more firmly, after all I am old enough to be her father, but the thought of losing the company of the only Cardassian on the station just didn't sound too appealing. And it will surely surprise you to hear that I can be quite selfish that way." 

The Doctor stared at him for a few seconds, comprehending what he had just heard. 

"So... when you asked me 'And what is it to you?', you were trying to... provoke me?" 

"Well", Garak said, "How was I supposed to know you have such an affinity for martyrdom? Although in hindsight..." 

"Because I thought you were in a relationship with Ziyal and I didn't want to get in the way?", Bashir's eyebrows had knit closely together and he had sprung up from the sofa, pacing around the small room. 

"Some people might see a little competition as an incentive instead.", Garak said. 

The Doctor made an exasperated noise and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Garak I know that Cardassian culture is different from Human culture, but this sounds like a plot right out of a very cheap holo novel. Something Quark might sell." 

"No need to be insulting." 

"I tried to invite you to dinner and talk to you, if you knew I still had feelings for you, why the need to engineer such a scheme?", Bashir looked bewildered. 

"Well, I _didn't_ know.", Garak said simply. "If I may remind you, you were the one who broke off our little... affair." 

"But you suspected." 

"Hoped might be a better word.", Garak said. 

"I see.", Bashir was still pacing. "So you decided to test me so you wouldn't have to put yourself out there and risk rejection. Nice." 

"I've been rejected by you once before, you might permit me a little insecurity." 

"Insecurity?", the Doctor stopped in his track, blinking for a moment, "Garak, you're the least insecure person I know." 

"Then maybe you don't know as wide a variety of people than you think.", Garak quipped, then he changed to a more serious tone, "Doctor, I'm a middle-aged, exiled Cardassian ex-spy, who's not in as good a shape as he once was. That is not exactly the stuff dreams are made of." 

"You're in good shape.", Bashir said, "Besides, you don't know what I dream about." 

That brought a smile to Garak's lips, which he saw mirrored in the Doctor. 

"What made you change your mind then?", Garak asked, "With everything I put you through I'm amazed we managed to stay friends, let alone anything else." 

Bashir lowered himself down on the sofa again. 

"I don't think I even had to change my mind. I never really stopped thinking about you in that way. But I couldn't forget...", he trailed off, "And then I learned about Tain, and suddenly it all made sense. It was a bit of a process, but the gist of it is, I'm not good at ordinary. When I'm with you, it never feels ordinary, even if we're just discussing books. You always manage to surprise me and I'm afraid I'll never meet someone as interesting as you again." 

Garak's heart beat fast in his chest. He didn't know who kissed who first, they just kind of drifted together, warm lips exploring the newfound old familiarity. 

One of Bashir's hands found its way to the back of Garak's neck, pulling him even closer. Garak let his' sink into the Doctor's hair. 

Although the kiss was passionate, it didn't feel urgent. Garak was relaxed, more relaxed than he had been in months, sleep buzzing vaguely in the back of his head. 

When, after a long while, they broke the kiss and came up for air, they stayed in the same position, foreheads leaned against eachother. Garak could feel the warm breath on his face and a hand caressing the scales on his neck, sending a languorous shiver down his spine. 

"Can you stay the night?", Julian's voice was soft and husky. 

"I think we've just established that.", Garak commented with a grin. He received a tender kiss on the cheek. 

"Good. Although I'm not sure I'll be of much use for anything tonight.", the Doctor yawned to illustrate his point, "I think sleep finally caught up with me." 

"I see no cause to rush, it is quite late and I don't feel as energetic as I'd like either. We'll have plenty of time, now that we established we both want the same thing." 

For that, Garak received another kiss, this time on the lips. 

Then they got up and moved to the bed. Garak sat down on the edge to remove his shoes and socks. Julian did the same, but was quicker to finish, so he crawled up behind Garak, finding the clasps at the back that closed his tunic. He seemingly remembered what he had to do and opened them with minimal fumbling, all the while pressing a kiss here and there on exposed skin. 

Once the tunic was removed, Garak turned around, helping the Doctor out of his uniform and undershirt, then stepped out of his trousers. 

Under the covers it was warm, thanks to Julian, whose body seemed to think it was actually a furnace instead of a living being. He could get used to it, Garak thought, nestling closer. 

The Doctor's arms came up around him, and Garak slung his own around Julian's neck. Their lips met again in a lazy kiss. 

Garak let his hands wander, stroking the soft skin. It was almost surreal that it had happened, and that it had happened now, during a war, but he was all the more grateful for it. 

When the kiss broke, he laid his head against the Doctor's chest with a contented sigh. Julian buried his nose in his hair. 

"Good night, Elim.", he mumbled, his voice already drenched in sleep. 

"Good night... Julian.", Garak replied with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally they talked about it!  
> If you think reading about all of these misunderstandings is frustrating, try writing it. I was looking forward to this chapter so much. Finally I can write some fluff again :3


	39. Chapter 39

There was a strange ringing sound in Garak's ear, and it wasn't his alarm. Sleepily he tried to pull the blanket over his head, but the sound was quite persistent. 

"Julian?", a muffled voice called. 

"Julian?", Garak thought confused, why was the voice calling the Doctor? 

"Are you in there? Have you forgotten our breakfast? If you don't answer I'll come in." 

Next to Garak someone bolted upright, and in that moment he remembered what had happened last night. With a jolt he sat up as well. 

"Jadzia?", Julian called, his voice sounding more than a little panicked, "I'm so sorry, I... I must've overslept." 

There was a short pause. 

"Are you all right? You sound weird." 

"No. Yes. I mean, I'm fine.", the Doctor spluttered. "Just forgot to set my alarm." 

"OK. Well, then make sure you're not late for the briefing.", Lieutenant Dax called back, sounding not entirely convinced. 

"I will.", Julian yelled, "See you later." 

Both of them sat quietly until they were sure she was gone, then the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back on the pillow, hands over his face. 

"That was a narrow escape.", he rubbed his eyes. 

"Yes, indeed.", Garak sank back down as well, heart still beating from the rather sudden wake-up-call. 

Julian turned his body towards him. 

"Good morning.", he grinned. 

"Good morning.", Garak echoed with a smile. 

They kissed, and Garak melted into the warm embrace. Their legs tangled under the covers, one of the Doctor's slipping between Garak's and pressing upwards. 

The resulting jolt of pleasure let Garak hum into the kiss. 

"Do we have time for this?", he asked, breaking contact for a moment. 

Julian craned his neck, looking towards the clock on the bedside table. 

"If we're quick about it.", he assessed. 

"Well, on your part that shouldn't be a problem. I see you're already good to go.", Garak lightly squeezed the bulge that was pressing into his hip. 

"Mhmm.", Julian breathed. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you don't know enough about Humans to realize that indicating a male is quick in bed is quite an insult." 

He didn't look insulted at all, more amused, and while he talked he gently nudged Garak to turn on his back, climbing onto him. 

"Interesting.", Garak commented, "I had always linked swiftness with efficiency. Although I personally prefer taking my time if possible." 

"Noted.", Julian leaned down, bringing his lips to Garak's neck ridges, "Next time we'll take as much time as you want." 

The Doctor's husky voice in combination with the half-whispered promise made Garak shudder from head to toe. 

Even though time was of the essence, Julian didn't rush his caresses of Garak's neck. He interchanged tiny bites with soft kisses that made Garak squirm and press into the Doctor's body. 

Slowly he moved lower, down under the covers, trailing his lips all over Garak's torso. Hands slid down from Garak's waist to his hips, taking his underwear with them. 

His slit throbbed in anticipation of what was to come. And soon enough he felt warm breath on the sensitive skin, a tentative tongue followed, exploring. 

It was only a few seconds before Garak everted, and Julian took him in his mouth. A low moan escaped Garak's throat and the Doctor hummed in response, moving his lips slowly up and down. 

Hands tangled into the sheets, anchoring Garak against the wave of pleasure that threatened to break over him. His head lolled back, eyes shut, every nerve-ending in his body alert. 

Julian continued the rhythm, his hands climbing up a little, kneading the skin at Garak's hips and waist. Garak felt a little like a clay sculpture under the tender care of a skilled artist. 

What a silly thought. 

But oh, how he had missed this touch, the heat, Julian so close to him. 

Already the familiar tightness pooled in his stomach, and then he came with a small cry. 

Garak shuddered, breathing hard in the little aftershocks. Julian rode them out with him, only taking his mouth away when his body had stilled. 

Garak pulled him up and kissed him hard, not caring that he could taste himself on the Doctor's tongue. He slung his arms around the slender form on top of him, an instinct deep down telling him to never let go. 

But they needed to break the kiss in order not to suffocate. Julian's smiling face hovered above him, flushed and bright eyes. He gave Garak a peck on the cheek and then nestled against his neck. 

"Just a few minutes.", he sighed, "Then I have to get ready and into the shower." 

"Mhhmm... Would you mind if I joined you?" 

"Not at all.", Garak could hear the grin in the Doctor's voice. "But not just yet." 

He buried his face even closer into Garak's neck and stretched his legs. When he did that, there was a soft thud. 

Garak craned his neck to see what had fallen off the bed. Involuntarily he flinched, having at first mistaken the furry lump for a cross between a Cardassian vole and a tribble, until he realized the thing wasn't alive. 

"Julian?", he asked, "What is that?" 

The Doctor, who had followed his gaze, sighed deeply, cringing slightly. He moved to retrieve the lump from the floor, and Garak sat up as well. 

Now he could see that the thing did in fact resemble an animal, an Earth bear if he wasn't mistaken, although quite an inaccurate representation of it. 

"This is Kukalaka.", Julian introduced as if that answered the question. 

"Ah.", Garak commented. 

The Doctor was clearly embarassed, but cradled the bear with tenderness. 

"He's a teddy bear, a... toy for children." 

Garak nodded. "On Cardassia we have similar things for the youngest, though of course representing different animals. But why exactly do you have this?" 

"I kept him from childhood. I know it's silly, but I just couldn't part with him.", Julian wasn't looking at Garak while he spoke, idly picking at the fur of the bear. "Usually he lives on a shelf in my quarters, but here there's no place to put him." 

Garak thought for a moment. "I've been to your quarters, and to your room on the Defiant, why did I never see him there?" 

"I hid him.", the Doctor still wasn't looking at Garak, "I guess I was a little embarassed. And afraid of your reaction. It's not exactly normal for a grown man to still have a stuffed animal." 

"No, it's not.", Garak agreed, "But then again what is normal anyways? And if I were to suddenly criticize your immature behaviour, I would start at your weekly holosuite games with Chief O'Brien." 

"Hey!", Julian shoved Garak's shoulder but laughed, clearly relieved. 

Garak peered at the teddy. "He... what did you say his name was again?" 

"Kukalaka." 

"Kukalaka.", Garak repeated, "He looks a little worse for wear." 

"Yes", the Doctor nodded, "I've had him all my life, and when I was little I used to take him absolutely everywhere. The first repairs I did even before the enhancements, I could hardly thread the needle, let alone sew without pricking my finger every time. Took me ages." 

Garak reached over and touched one of the seams. "Yes, I can see that. Quite poor craftsmanship if you don't mind me saying." 

Julian grinned. "I got better, see?", he pointed towards the bear's left foot, which seemingly had been detached once. 

"Well, it's enough for a layman." 

"You're full of compliments today.", the Doctor grinned, then looked over at the clock, "Come on, let's get going, off to the shower.", he gently placed the bear on his pillow with a little pat on the head. It made Garak smile, although he found the notion to treat inanimate objects like living things peculiar. 

When he got out from under the covers, Garak felt the chill of the room. The bathroom wasn't better, so he hurried along into the sonic shower. 

"Is it warm enough?", Julian asked while fiddling with the controls. 

"Just about perfect.", Garak said, not intending to leave the cubicle in the foreseeable future. 

As the Doctor stepped in, he made a small noise. 

"Is it too hot?", Garak asked, knowing that Humans and Cardassians had a very different perception of what was comfortable when it came to temperature. 

"No, I can take a bit of heat, my body just needs to adjust.", Julian got closer to him and wound his arms around Garak's waist. He was still aroused. 

Garak put the palms of his hands flat against the Doctor's chest. Even through the heat of the shower he could feel the warmth of Julian's body, and his strong heartbeat. 

He let his hands wander upwards, over the defined shoulders, towards the neck. The Doctor tipped his head backwards slightly to give him better access. Garak placed kisses along the bared throat, sometimes dragging his teeth lightly. 

Julian hugged him tighter. 

Garak's lips found their way to Julian's mouth, and at the same time, his hands travelled back down. A small moan entered into the kiss when Garak took a hold of the Doctor. 

He started moving and Julian's breathing became laboured. The Doctor broke the kiss and rested his head on Garak's shoulder, still holding on and pressing them close together. 

"Mhhmm, I _really_ like your hands.", Julian sighed, "Did, _ah_... did I ever tell you that?" 

"Not until now.", Garak said bemusedly. 

"Well it's true." 

"I don't doubt it, given the current situation." 

The Doctor uttered a laugh, which turned into a moan when Garak picked up speed. He nipped at the delicate skin on Julian's neck, sucking, though not hard enough to leave a bruise. 

Soon the moans against Garak's shoulder grew in frequency. What a beautiful sound. Even though Garak had already had his orgasm just minutes ago, he felt the faint tingle of arousal again. Seeing Julian in this state of dishevelled vulnerability was beyond delicious. 

With a shiver the Doctor came, holding onto Garak, who extended a hand to the small of his back, helping keeping him upright. 

For some long moments they just stood there while the shower cleared away the mess, holding eachother close. Julian lifted his head from Garak's shoulder and kissed him sweetly. Garak's stomach reacted with a fluttery kind of feeling. He sighed. He wished they had more time. 

As if Julian had read his thoughts he whispered "We can continue this tonight." 

Garak's heart beat faster. 

"I'll have to check my diary first.", he tried to joke, but a break in his voice betrayed his true feelings on the matter. 

The Doctor simply grinned. "Your quarters this time? I think the chances of being disturbed by Jadzia are pretty low there." 

"I tend to agree.", Garak said. 

They cleaned up properly and got into their respective clothes. Before leaving, they shared one last long kiss, then Julian peered out of the door before gesturing for Garak to follow him. There was an unspoken agreement that they would continue to keep this under wrap. 

Garak watched as the Doctor hurried along, almost breaking into a sprint, he only had a few minutes left before he needed to report to Captain Sisko. 

Amused, Garak headed the opposite direction, his stomach informing him vehemently that skipping breakfast would not be an option. So he went towards the mess hall, planning to treat himself to a Delvan fluff pastry. After that he would check in with the station commander to see how he could be of use. 

His own cheerfulness posed a stark contrast to the harrowed looking faces he saw hurrying down the corridors. He tried to put them out of his mind. 

Yes there was a war going on, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy this little glimpse, this promise of happiness, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but hopefully all the more sweet chapter :)  
> Finally Kukalaka makes an appearance! I was absolutely dying to include him, but up until now I never found a plausible way to do so^^


	40. Chapter 40

"... and right when I came in through the door, she just looked me up and down and said 'So who's the lucky one?' Can you believe that? How does she do it?" 

"Well, Lieutenant Dax has more than 300 years of life experience to look back on, in that timespan you're bound to get rather prolific at reading signs. Also, your face is quite expressive, my dear.", Garak smiled at Julian while cutting his Andorian Tuber root. 

They were having dinner in Garak's quarters so they could talk freely. Sadly the guest quarters on this space station didn't include a dinner table, so they had to make do with the small coffee table in front of the sofa. 

"Are you implying I'm not good at keeping secrets?", the Doctor asked with a raised eyebrow, "Have you forgotten that up until recently nobody knew about my genetic enhancements?" 

"No, what I'm saying is that you're bad at hiding your emotions." 

Julian pondered that for a moment. 

"Maybe.", he said, "Good that you're such a riddle wrapped in an enigma, or there would soon be gossip." 

"I'll take that as a compliment.", Garak grinned, "So what did you say to Lieutenant Dax?" 

"Well, I asked her what she was talking about." 

"But she didn't buy it?." 

"Not for one second. I had to make something up about a handsome stranger I met last night in the mess hall. I just hope nobody saw us leave together." 

"I think that's highly unlikely.", Garak said, "I didn't recognize anyone from the Defiant in the room." 

"Me neither.", the Doctor paused for a second, "Do you think there will be a time when... you know, we can just be open about it?" 

Garak sighed. "My dear, now is possibly the worst time there ever was for this. Have you noticed the looks people give me? The Federation is at war with Cardassia." 

"I know, I know. But I mean if we get- no, _when_ we get through the war, back to DS9...?", Julian looked at him with big eyes. 

"I think that is a conversation for that time." 

"All right.", the Doctor smiled, seeming satisfied with the answer. Garak was a little surprised. 

"What, no protest?" 

Julian shook his head, still smiling. "If you really never wanted to tell anyone, you would've shut me down right away with some clever quip, or changed the subject. That you're putting the conversation off on a later date tells me you're actually considering it." 

Garak blinked. "My, you really have learned a lot in the last few years." 

"I have.", the Doctor triumphantly speared a piece of meat on his fork and promptly missed his mouth by an inch. 

Garak hid his laughter behind a napkin. 

Julian grinned sheepishly. "Well, obviously I still have a long way to go when it comes to behaving in public." 

"It's only me here, and I won't tell anyone if you don't. Although I admit I'm tempted to mime this little anecdote to Lieutenant Dax, I think she would appreciate it." 

"Don't you dare!", Julian laughed, "I wouldn't hear the end of it for weeks." 

"Of course I won't.", Garak assured him, "Then I also would have to detail why exactly we were having dinner all alone in my quarters, and Lieutenant Dax knows how to add two and two. Better to keep this a private joke." 

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Private joke? Does that mean _you_ won't let me hear the end of it until I do something even more stupid?" 

"Maybe.", Garak grinned like a shark. "But may I steer the conversation back to the topic of secrets for a moment? What can you tell me about this top secret mission you've been assigned to?" 

Julian sighed. "I'm afraid not much. It's all very hush-hush. But there will be a preparation period of about two weeks here on the station." 

"Oh.", Garak tried not to look too excited. "That gives us quite some time that we don't have to spend on the Defiant." 

"It does.", the Doctor grinned, "The beds here are much more comfortable. And bigger." 

Garak grinned as well. "I was mainly thinking about my roommate and having to explain to him either my absence, or your presence during the night. Although I guess there's always heavy narcotics..." 

Julian laughed. "That's the privilege of being a higher ranking officer, we don't have to share." 

"In what luxury you dwell, my dear. A whole room, that's just about the size of a broom closet, all to yourself!" 

"I wouldn't be too dismissive about it if I were you", the Doctor grinned, "or I won't let you share it once we're on the Defiant again." 

"I apologize profusely!", Garak exclaimed in an exaggerated approximation of distress, "Tell me, how can I make amends?" 

"I'm sure I'll think of something.", Julian's voice had dropped an octave and his grin now bore a wicked slant. "Are you finished?", he gestured towards Garak's plate. 

"Yes, I suppose I am." 

The Doctor, as always, had wiped his plate in mere minutes. But this time Garak couldn't bring himself to chide him for it. 

"Good. Dessert?", Julian cocked his eyebrow suggestively. 

" _Really_ , Doctor?" 

"What? Too cliché?" 

"I'm trying to create a phrase even less erotic but my mind seems to draw a blank." 

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Just come here.", and with that he pulled Garak into a kiss. 

Their knees bumped both against eachother, and the coffe table, which clattered precariously with the dishes still on it. 

"Maybe a change of location is in order.", Garak remarked drily. 

"Agreed." 

Julian took Garak's hands and pulled him up with him when he rose from the sofa. They kissed again, longer this time. The Doctor had his arms firmly around Garak's waist. 

Slowly he was nudging him towards the bed, where he sat down and pulled Garak on top of him, so he was straddling Julian's legs. 

"I've been waiting to do this all day.", he murmured against Garak's neck. 

A warm shudder ran down Garak's spine and he quickly pressed his lips to Julian's. 

The Doctor still tasted faintly of the dish he had just eaten. 

Starting at the knees, Julian ran his hands up Garak's thighs, by which he also pushed up the green tunic. The fingers between fabric and skin were warm, stroking gentle circles across Garak's torso. 

The Doctor continued caressing Garak's neck with his lips, which sent a prickling desire downwards. Garak slid forwards a little, pressing his thighs closer together, and in turn closer to Julian who was wedged between them. 

The Doctor grinned against Garak's neck, giving him a playful bite on one of the ridges. Garak breathed in sharply. 

Julian took his hands out from under the tunic and instead fumbled with the fastenings of it. When he had opened them, Garak raised his arms and the Doctor slipped it over his head. The garment landed on the floor next to the bed, and right now Garak just couldn't care less about it getting wrinkled. 

Julian lost no time in applying both hands and lips to the newly exposed skin, and Garak responded by digging his fingers into his back. 

Teeth nibbled along the ridges while the hands gradually wandered down until they had arrived at Garak's behind, kneading the flesh there. Then they came around to the front, settling on the joints between Garak's thighs and upper body. He could feel them pressing into the softness of his belly. 

Garak jolted. 

He was surely heavier now than he had been when they had first slept together a few years ago. 

The Doctor seemed to register Garak's reaction, he stopped his motions and looked up at him. 

"Is everything all right? You kind of... flinched?" 

"Did I?", Garak deflected, "No, everything is fine." 

"Good.", Julian's smile showed relief. He continued kneading and pressed kisses to Garak's collarbone, but after a short while he stopped again. 

"Elim,", he said, "please tell me what's going on." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"You're suddenly not responding, your body is all rigid. Did I do something?", there was so much worry in Julian's eyes and voice that Garak felt quite guilty. 

"I can assure you, it's nothing.", he couldn't look into the Doctor's eyes, he was too embarrassed. 

"It's not nothing.", Julian insisted, "If I did something you don't like you need to tell me." 

"You're reading too much into this, my dear." 

Julian uttered an exasperated sigh, hanging his head in a dramatic pose. Then he stopped short and looked up again. 

"Elim. Are you sucking in your stomach?" 

So much for being discrete. Well, denying it wasn't really an option. 

"... Yes." 

He saw the Doctor's mind working. 

"Wait, is that what it's about? You're worried about your body?" 

What could he possibly say now? In his past life as a spy, he would've made _very_ sure noone lived to tell the tale of this mortifying situation. But he wasn't a spy anymore. He was Garak the tailor, sitting in the lap of a very handsome young Doctor and feeling self-conscious about the way his body had softened. 

He sighed, closing his eyes. 

"Yes, I admit I am not very happy with my weight." 

"I remember you did that when we first slept together.", Julian said, "But yesterday and this morning you seemed fine?" 

"Well, when you grabbed me there", he pointed, "just now, it reminded me." 

Julian immediately removed his hands and instead rested them on Garak's knees. 

"But you look fine, and you're healthy! There isn't anything to be concerned about." 

Oh sweet Doctor. 

"My dear, have you seen other Cardassians? Most of them are rather tall and quite slim. I've always been built stocky in comparison, though in my youth I could make up for it with the vigorous training of the Obsidian Order. Now that has fallen away, and I'm a few years older, I fear _this_ -", he gestured towards his belly that protruded quite a bit over the waistband of his trousers, even more so after the meal they'd just had, "is here to stay. You've seen Tain, I think I know where my path is leading. Though I do hope not to that degree." 

Julian blinked, taking in what Garak had just said. 

"Wait... so you're telling me Gul Dukat is considered good-looking by Cardassian standards?" 

It wasn't the response Garak had expected. 

"Yes, though he more than makes up for it with his personality." 

The Doctor giggled, then got serious again. 

"You know I'm not a Cardassian, right?" 

"I am aware.", Garak said drily. 

"Good, then you're hopefully also aware that personal tastes vary, and I happen to like what I see.", Julian ran his hands up Garak's thighs again to his hips, resting them there lightly. "It's normal to feel a little self-conscious now and then, but please know that I think you're perfect the way you are." 

Garak's heart made a leap. 

"And I'm not just saying that to make you feel better... I actually like your little belly.", the Doctor continued, his cheeks flushed, apparently a bit embarrassed by this admission. "It's kind of a... contrast to all your sharp remarks and wariness. It's just good to see there's some softness to you, not just edges.", he inclined his head sheepishly, not meeting Garak's eyes. 

Garak wasn't good at expressing feelings that weren't anger, and usually he tended to break the tension of an emotional situation by a snarky comment. This time nothing came to mind.He really didn't know what to say, his heart was still beating fast, so he grabbed Julian's face and kissed him hard. 

Their tongues intertwined and Garak felt like their lips molded together. The Doctor's arms came around, holding him close and secure. Garak never wanted him to let go. 

He busied himself with the zipper on the Starfleet uniform, while the kiss grew more and more heated. When they eventually had to come up for air, Julian gasped "I'll take this off then, shall I?" 

"Please do." 

Garak regretted that to do so, the embrace had to be broken, but on the other hand he craved more skin-to-skin contact, so the shirt and jacket had to go. 

He helped Julian so the garments could land on the floor as soon as possible, then Garak nestled against the Doctor's neck, enjoying the warmth and nipping at the soft skin. 

The arms came around again, stroking soothing circles across Garak's back, and he arched closer into Julian's chest. 

Suddenly the Doctor let himself fall backwards on the bed, pulling Garak with him. Then he rolled both of them around so he was on top, knees to either side of Garak's body and propping himself up on his hands. He grinned sweetly, eyes gleaming. 

Julian leaned down and pressed a kiss to the tip of Garak's nose, at which Garak couldn't help but smile. He looked gorgeous, flushed, with messy hair, and he had called Garak perfect the way he was. Half of Garak actually believed him. 

One of Julian's hands came up, brushing across Garak's chest. Before he went lower, he hesitated, an unspoken question on his face. 

Garak nodded. 

Light as a feather, the Doctor's fingers stroked across his stomach, painting loopy patterns. Wherever they went, they left a prickling sort of sensation, ruffling all the tiny scales. 

Then Julian leaned down, pressing kisses on every inch of his belly until Garak was almost squirming with the sensation of soft lips on his skin. His slit was throbbing with want and eager to get some friction. 

He pulled the Doctor in for a heated kiss, pressing his groin against his leg. A small moan escaped Garak's mouth. 

With one hand Julian fidgeted with the flies of Garak's trousers, using the other to balance himself. Garak's fingers joined his and made quick work of the closure, pulling trousers and underwear down in one go. 

The Doctor broke the kiss and trailed his lips over Garak's neck, chest and stomach, while pulling the trousers further down and off Garak's legs. 

The rush of cool air against his naked skin made his scales prick up even more. Julian trailed his mouth further, smoothing them down as he went. He stopped at Garak's slit. 

Warm breath made Garak tingle with anticipation. Then Julian eased his tongue in. 

Instinctively Garak spread his legs further apart with an involuntary sigh. 

Every stroke fired his desire, and he everted with a buckle of his hips. 

Julian sucked the tip of Garak's cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it, which made Garak gasp. For a moment Garak closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling. 

The Doctor moved his lips along Garak's length and it felt fantastic, but Garak wanted something else. 

"My dear?" 

Julian stopped in his tracks, looking up like a startled deer. 

Garak cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "I'd like to... _feel_ you... if you don't mind.", he said with the rest of composure he still possessed. 

The Doctor's expression softened into an adoring smile. 

"Of course." 

He sat up and opened the flies of his trousers, where Garak could see his cock straining against the fabric. Hastily he removed the garment from his legs and the underwear followed suit. 

Then he leaned over Garak again, connecting their lips once more, while tangling their legs together. 

Garak enjoyed the feeling of so much warmth on top of him. He trailed his fingers up Julian's spine until they tangled in his hair. 

The Doctor lifted his hips slightly, reaching down without breaking the kiss, and guided himself into Garak's slit. 

"Mhhmm", Julian hummed. He took a second before he started to move. 

Gently he rocked into Garak, their skin rubbing against eachother, trapping Garak's cock between them. The friction, added to the sliding inside of him, made Garak utter another moan. 

For a while there were only grunts and sighs of pleasure to be heard. Garak didn't know which of these belonged to him, and right now he didn't care. 

He adjusted his position slightly, hiking his legs higher by crossing them over the Doctor's thighs and arching into him further. Julian slid one arm under Garak's back, just above his waist, to anchor himself, and quickened his pace. 

Garak clung on, alternately stroking along the Doctor's back, and digging his fingernails into the warm skin. He wanted Julian as close as possible, wanted to drink in the heat. 

Much too soon he felt his desire mounting to a peak, until he came hard. 

He shuddered in the aftermath as Julian continued sliding in and out softly. Then he came as well, burying his head against Garak's neck. 

They breathed, staying huddled together. For how long, Garak didn't know. He had closed his eyes, stroking patterns over Julian's back. 

Then the Doctor stirred, rolling over to the side. Garak held on, so they were both on their side, still facing eachother. 

Julian chuckled. "I'll just get up to fetch a towel, OK?", he pressed a kiss to the dip on Garak's forehead. 

Reluctantly Garak let go. 

The Doctor pulled out and got off the bed, padding to the small adjacent bathroom. 

Now that Julian's body wasn't pressed against him anymore, Garak felt the cool of the room again. He grabbed the duvet and pulled it over him. He felt pleasantly tired. 

The Doctor came back with a damp towel, climbing onto the bed, and folding back the duvet. 

Garak must've made a face, because Julian chuckled again. "Sorry, I'll be quick." 

He cleaned both of them up, then discarded the towel on the nightstand, putting the blanket back in place and slipping under it. 

Garak pulled him into an embrace. Miraculously, even though he had been in the cold of the room, Julian still radiated heat. 

They kissed lazily. 

Garak had never allowed himself to be this vulnerable with anyone before. If the Doctor had noticed, he was polite enough not to comment on his sudden clinginess. It felt odd, but good. Very good. 

Maybe he could get used to it, he thought idly while brushing through Julian's hair with his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me, I'm just a tiny ball of cheese, writing cheesy lovey-dovey scenes :3


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is still "A Time to Stand", quite a bit of dialogue taken from the show

The two weeks just flew by. 

There was still the war going on, with unchanging reports of death and only occasional small victories, but Garak felt more happy than he had been in years. 

Now he didn't need to face all of this alone. 

In the day, he decoded intercepted Cardassian messages -none of any great importance, his people weren't known for sloppiness after all -and in the evening he met up with Julian. 

The Doctor still wasn't allowed to talk about the secret mission he was going to be part of, and he kept to that. Garak didn't pry, he knew it was useless, although he was curious. 

And cautiously hopeful. Maybe this was something that would turn the war around in their favour. 

_Their_ favour. 

Just a few years ago he would rather have faced torture or death before taking the side of the Federation. But that was just what the Dominion had achieved. 

On the morning of Julian's departure, Garak felt unusually jittery. 

The Doctor was more than capable of defending himself, Garak knew that, despite him poking fun at him about his lack of survival instinct. But a full blown warzone was different than all the little adventures he had gotten up to on Deep Space Nine. 

Besides, in the past Garak had usually only heard about the dangerous situations Julian had faced after they had been long gone. Over lunch, with a cup of tea, told in an engaging way. 

Although he had also been part of a few of them. 

They'd already had their proper goodbye the night before, but they still hugged for a very long time before the Doctor slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the door. 

A little while after, Garak also left his quarters for the small office he had been assigned for the time being. 

He wasn't as focused as usual, occasionally glancing at the chronometer on the computer console. The departure wasn't until midday, Julian had said. 

About an hour into his work, there was a chime on the door. 

"Enter.", Garak called, assuming it was some Ensign either wanting information or bringing it. 

But when he glanced up, Captain Sisko stepped through the door. 

"Good morning Mr Garak." 

"Good morning Captain, what can I do for you?", Garak answered automatically. 

"Well", Sisko began, "to make it short, I'd like you to come along on our secret mission. I know this is very short notice, but we're going into Cardassian space and might need your... guidance." 

"Oh.", Garak was truly surprised. 

The Captain briefly explained the goal of the mission. 

They were to use the Jem'Hadar attack ship that Sisko had captured last year, to destroy the Dominion's main ketracel-white storage depot in the Alpha Quadrant. 

Of course Garak accepted the invitation. 

He went back to his quarters to pack, and then met up with Sisko again, who escorted him to the Jem'Hadar ship. 

It had quite a strange design, not built for comfort or aesthetic pleasure, purely functional for battle, like the Jem'Hadar themselves. Everything felt rather cold with the raw metal everywhere. 

When the Captain strode through the door to the bridge, with Garak in tow, he greeted his crew with "All right, people, prepare for departure." 

"All systems ready, sir.", Lieutenant Dax reported dutifully. 

Julian was on the bridge as well, and his gaze turned immediately towards Garak, as if he might've felt his presence. He looked puzzled but happy. 

"Garak, come to see us off?" 

"Uh, not quite.", Garak answered with a smile. 

"I invited Mr Garak to join us.", the Captain cut in, "Considering we're heading into Cardassian territory, I thought he might prove useful." 

Julian clapped Garak on the shoulder with a big grin. 

"Well, it's been known to happen.", Garak commented drily. 

"Pull up a chair.", the Chief called from behind a strange-looking console. 

Garak looked around. There was no chair. In fact there was nothing even remotely resembling seating furniture. 

Right, a Jem'Hadar ship. No comfort. 

This would be quite a long journey. 

"We're cleared for departure, sir.", Nog reported, and Sisko put on a headset with a tiny screen in front of one eye. 

There was no big viewscreen, so this was presumably going to be the only visual connection to their surroundings. Very disorienting. 

The Captain didn't look too pleased about it either, blinking uncomfortably as his eyes got used to the apparatus. 

"Take us out, Old Man." 

"Aye, Captain.", Lieutenant Dax said, "Aft thrusters at one-half.", she tapped on her console. 

"Bring us about.", Sisko conducted. 

Suddenly the ship tilted to the side, making everyone stagger a few steps to keep on their feet. Some chairs would probably have prevented that, and Garak planned to tell the next Jem'Hadar he met all about it. 

"Just wanted to make sure everyone was awake.", Dax smiled sheepishly. 

"We are now.", the Captain said drily, "Just take it nice and easy, all right?" 

"I can try." 

"Set a course for the Cardassian border, heading 054 mark 093.", Sisko ordered, "Warp six." 

And without further wobbling they took off. 

It would be a few hours until they'd reach their destination, so Garak decided to cease the opportunity. 

"Doctor?", he approached Julian, "Since everybody else seems occupied, could you show me to my quarters? I'm afraid I'm not yet familiar with the layout of this ship.", he gestured towards his bag. 

"Of course, I'll show you around.", Julian grinned. 

Nobody seemed to pay any great deal of attention to them. Good. 

When the door to the bridge had swooshed shut, and they had walked a few steps down the corridor, the Doctor slipped his hand into Garak's and squeezed it. 

"I'm so glad you're coming with us." 

"As am I.", Garak agreed with a smile. 

They separated their hands, someone could come their way any second, and continued down the corridor. 

"The quarters are to the right.", Julian explained, "There are quite a few that aren't taken yet, we're only flying with half a crew. I think you can just pick one. The one two doors down from mine are free.", he said with a suggestive grin. 

Garak raised an eyeridge. "Are they now? Well I just might be persuaded." 

Julian laughed. "Come on then." 

When they had reached said quarters, the Doctor pressed the button to open the door. 

The sight in front of Garak was underwhelming to say the least. 

"It's quite... minimalist." 

"That's one way of looking at it.", Julian said, knowing weariness in his voice. 

The concept of raw metal flooring had been carried through to the living space, giving decidedly not the coziest of atmospheres Garak had ever witnessed. There was a bed, if it could actually legally be called that. It was so narrow that Garak was sure he wouldn't even be able to turn in the night without falling out. 

A desk or table was nowhere to be seen, just some hooks on the wall, which he presumed were for clothes. Apart from that, the room was empty. 

And there was something else missing... 

"There is no window.", Garak said. 

"No.", Julian agreed, "Just a lovely view of metal wall. The Jem'Hadar apparently aren't into stargazing." 

"Or sleeping comfortably.", Garak continued. 

"There also isn't a mess hall. No eating or socialising." 

"I'm beginning to understand why they're such hostile people.", Garak said drily. 

Julian smirked and nodded. 

Garak put his arms round the Doctor's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Julian responded by placing his arms around Garak's waist. 

He could feel the Doctor's smile and his warmth. He could never get enough of the warmth. 

"Mhmm", Julian sighed when they broke the kiss, "I'm on duty. And technically you're as well." 

"What a shame." 

"You know what? You can help me set up all the medical equipment in my quarters.", the Doctor said. 

"Your quarters?", Garak was confused. 

"Didn't I tell you? No sick bay either.", Julian rolled his eyes. 

"Is it possible that this ship only consists of a warp core and a hull? Although at this point I wouldn't be surprised to find this vessel runs purely off frustration instead of dilithium crystals." 

The Doctor snorted. "You might have a point there." 

So they went to Julian's quarters and sorted through the stuff he had brought as best as they could. 

The good part about the fairly minimalist interior design of the ship was, that they had more room to set up the equipment, the bad part was that the quarters were rather small. 

Garak had never known just how much stuff a functioning infirmary needed, and most of the machines he hadn't even seen before. Julian on the other hand knew exactly what everything did and how it was set up. 

It gave Garak a new appreciation of the Doctor's work, even though sentences like "That goes the other way up." or "Better give that to me." soon began to annoy him. 

He didn't know how long they had been at work when the signature chime of Julian's comm badge interrupted their conversation. 

"Sisko to Bashir." 

"Bashir here." 

"Doctor, I need you on the bridge. Bring your med kit." 

"Understood.", Julian said, getting up and looking around for the bag. 

Garak found it wedged between the bed and yet another apparatus of which he didn't know what it was good for. He handed the Doctor the med kit, and since it would be a hopeless endeavour for him to try and sort through the rest of the equipment alone, followed Julian to the bridge. 

"There", the Doctor said when he had administered a hypo spray to Sisko's neck, "I wish I had more time to study the side effects of wearing that headset." 

"At least we know one side effect. Headaches.", said the Captain, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Well, the headsets were designed to be worn by the Vorta and the Jem'Hadar, not Humans.", Julian said. 

Following a sudden inspiration, Garak piped up. "Captain, may I make a suggestion?" 

"Only if you talk softly.", Sisko murmured. 

"We saw Dukat...", Garak began, but got interrupted by Julian miming to speak even more quietly. 

"... wearing one of these headsets", he continued, almost whispering now, "during the attack on Deep Space Nine. Perhaps Cardassian physiology is more compatible." 

"Are you volunteering?", the Captain asked. Both him and the Doctor were now looking at Garak. 

"I suppose I am. This ship is equipped with two of them. If I wore one, then you wouldn't have to. At least, not all the time." 

"I agree with Garak, Captain.", Julian said. "The less you wear it, the better." 

Sisko hesitated for a moment, then reached for the second headset and handed it to Garak. 

It needed to be activated, so Garak pressed the tiny button on the side. The small monitor came to life and started giving off a blue light. 

"Ah, it's like having a viewscreen inside your brain.", he said when he had adjusted it on his head. 

Just then, one of the consoles on the bridge started beeping frantically. 

"Sir...", Nog called from his station, "there's a Federation ship off our starboard bow bearing 157 mark 095. It's the USS Centaur." 

"That's Charlie Reynolds' ship.", Sisko said. 

"I see it.", it was right there on Garak's screen. 

Then suddenly their ship started shaking. They were being shot at. 

"Cadet, open a channel to the Centaur.", the Captain put his own headset on again. 

"I can't. Our comm system's down." 

"Perhaps we should consider returning fire.", Garak suggested. 

"We can't do that. They're Starfleet!", Julian seemed outraged at the idea. 

Another blow hit the ship, this time it rocked even harder than before. 

"Well, you tell them, not us.", Garak said as calmly as he could manage. He knew about the Doctor's idealism, something he could even appreciate at times, but in situations just as this one, it was a hindrance. 

Yet another blow struck. 

"We better do something.", the Chief called urgently. 

"Dax, get us across the border, maximum warp.", Sisko said to the Lieutenant, "I hope Charlie Reynolds knows better than to follow us into Dominion territory." 

The Lieutenant did as she was told, and they hurled through space, still under fire. 

"How long before we cross the border?", the Captain asked. 

"We just did.", Dax said. 

"The Centaur's still with us.", Nog stated the obvious, since another blow rocked the ship. 

"Charlie never did know when to quit.", Sisko mumbled. 

"I hope he knows what he's doing.", the Chief piped up. 

"The question is:", Garak pointed out, "Do we know what we're doing?" 

"Captain, that last hit damaged one of our guidance thrusters.", Lieutenant Dax reported, reading the screen in front of her. 

"Drop us out of warp.", Sisko commanded, "Come about. Prepare to return fire." 

Finally! 

The Chief hesitated for a moment before he said, "Yes, sir." 

"The Centaur has dropped out of warp.", Dax reported when the ship shook again. 

"Target their weapons array.", Sisko said, "Avoid their engines. I don't want to leave Charlie out here stranded on the wrong side of the border." 

The ships exchanged fire, then they came about for another pass. 

"Charlie likes to swing for the fences so stay in tight.", the Captain said, "Attack pattern omega." 

They exchanged another set of blows, then Dax reported "The Centaur is going into warp. They're heading back to Federation space." 

"Yes!", Nog voiced his relief. 

Garak breathed in deeply as well. "Nice work, Chief.", he said. 

"I didn't know I'd scored a direct hit.", O'Brien looked puzzled. 

"Maybe you didn't.", Dax said, "I'm picking up three Jem'Hadar ships headed this way." 

"He must've seen them.", Sisko said to nobody in particular. 

And now Garak could see them as well. Their ship flew through the formation, which was headed in the opposite direction. 

"They went right by us.", Nog commented. 

"Without even bothering to say hello.", Dax added. 

"They're too busy chasing the Centaur.", the Chief said. 

"Do you think Reynolds will outrun them?", there was a lot of concern in Julian's voice and Garak fought down the urge to take his hand. 

"Charlie's been in tight spots before. He'll make it.", the Captain reassured him. 

"I wish we could help.", Dax said equally worried. 

"We can't.", Sisko's voice hardened, "Chief, get our comm system back on line. Return to course. Warp seven." 

"Yes, sir." 

There were a few cuts, burns and bruises among the crew, which Julian had to attend to. Nothing serious fortunately. 

Garak stayed on the bridge, relieving Sisko of the task of being the eyes of the ship. 

Before he went down to his quarters to see to the injuries, Julian firmly told Garak to call him if he experienced any side-effects of wearing the headset, even the most minor ones. 

Garak assured him that he would, giving him a smile that let the Doctor know he really meant it. 

During that brief exchange, Garak caught the Chief watching them in his peripheral vision. But as soon as Garak turned his head towards him, O'Brien quickly looked at his console again. 

Maybe he sensed something. Him and Julian were good friends after all, and since Empok Nor he also knew about Garak's feelings towards the Doctor. 

Garak didn't really mind, and there wasn't anything he could do about it anyway. As far as he knew the Chief, he wouldn't say a word about it. Probably not even to Julian. 

It took another few hours before they reached their destination: A big boulder in space, surrounded by Jem'Hadar ships. Not very inviting. 

"The ship ahead just transmitted a message to the asteroid storage facility.", Garak reported to Sisko, trying not to get distracted by Julian, who had joined them on the bridge again and was pacing around with a dark expression on his face, "They're requesting to be resupplied with ketracel-white." 

"Looks like we've come to the right place.", Dax commented. 

The security grid vanished and let the ship pass. 

"The ship beamed down 110 empty canisters.", Garak read from his screen, "Now the storage facility is beaming up 110 full ones." 

Sisko pressed his comm badge. "Everything ready Chief?" 

"I've got 83 empty canisters standing by, and one not-so-empty. 90 isotons of enriched ultritium. It should take care of the entire storage facility and everything else within 800 kilometers." 

"Which means we have to be 900 kilometers away before the bomb goes off.", the Captain said. 

"The other ship is leaving orbit.", Garak reported. 

"Dax.", Sisko prompted. 

"The entire exchange took 92.3 seconds." 

"I've asked for 84 canisters of ketracel-white.", Garak said. It took a few moments before he exclaimed "Excellent. They're acknowledging my request." 

They flew through the grid. 

"Chief, set the detonator for three minutes.", the Captain said. 

"Detonator set.", came the prompt answer. 

"Three minutes?", Julian asked, "If it takes 92.3 seconds to make the exchange, that doesn't give us much time, sir." 

"That doesn't give the Jem'Hadar much time to detect the explosive either.", Sisko gave back, "Commander, beam down the canisters." 

He was right, but it was a close gamble. Just one thing had to take a little longer for the whole plan to fall to pieces. 

"Canisters away.", Dax said. 

"I hope whoever's in charge down there hasn't taken a lunch break.", Nog muttered. 

"The Jem'Hadar don't eat, Nog.", Julian reminded him helpfully. 

"That's good.", the little Ferengi was relieved, but then his face contorted into worry again, "How do we know they're Jem'Hadar?" 

"Relax cadet.", Dax smiled, "Everything's on schedule. They've just beamed 84 canisters of white into our cargo bay." 

"I've acknowledged receipt and requested clearance for departure.", Garak reported. 

"Good. Prepare to go to warp.", Sisko said. 

"Standing by.", Dax looked at her screen. 

Suddenly something flickered in Garak's view. 

"Captain, I think we have a problem.", he said, fairly alarmed, "They've just raised the security net. 

"Repeat our request for clearance.", Sisko said. 

Garak did. "They're not responding." 

In the background he could hear Julian talking quietly to the Captain. 

"If they don't shut down that net before the bomb goes off, we don't have a chance." 

"One minute, 30 seconds to detonation.", Dax said. 

The tension could be felt all across the bridge. 

"Do you think they found the bomb?", Nog asked anxiously. 

"I doubt it, not this fast.", the Chief answered. 

"Then why aren't they letting us go?", Julian said. 

"That's a good question.", outwardly Sisko seemed calm and collected, but Garak could see the wheels turning inside. 

Finally there was a sign from the other end. 

"Captain, they're responding. They're ordering us to stand by.", Garak reported. 

"For what?" 

"They're not saying." 

"One minute, 15 seconds.", Lieutenant Dax gave the countdown. 

Sisko turned to O'Brien, "Chief, can we punch a hole in the security net?" 

"Sure, but it'll take a couple of minutes." 

"We don't have a couple of minutes. What if we disable the net's power generator?" 

"The explosion will do that.", Nog said. 

"Well that won't do us much good.", Garak commented, still waiting for a response from the asteroid. 

"One minute.", Dax said. 

"Maybe it will.", Sisko mused, "When the generator's destroyed, the net'll come down. All we have to do is to time it so that we're moving fast enough at the moment of detonation to avoid being caught in the explosion." 

"But not so fast that we smash into the net before it's deactivated.", Dax continued the thought. 

"It's tricky.", the Chief said. 

"Not if we time it right.", the Captain said, turning towards Dax who had already begun typing frantically. 

"Let's see... a radial geodesic in a 39 Cochrane warp field contracts normal space at a rate of-" 

"We have to go to full impulse 1.3 seconds before the bomb detonates.", Julian interrupted her. 

"Dax?", Sisko asked. 

"The computer agrees with Julian." 

"Of course it does.", Garak couldn't bite back the comment, "They think alike." 

The Doctor gave him a look. 

"Turning over piloting controls to the main computer.", Dax narrated what she did, "Set." 

"Time?", Sisko requested. 

"22 seconds until the explosion." 

"22 seconds. That's plenty of time.", Nog said. 

"See, Cadet? There was nothing to worry about.", the Chief said lightheartedly. 

Nog didn't look too convinced. 

Then the orange glow of the explosion filled Garak's view screen and the ship rocked in the shockwave. 

"Must have gone off early.", O'Brien shouted over the noise. 

"Dax, get us out of here!", Sisko barked. 

It was a bumpy ride, but somehow they made it, just barely as the next explosion ripped apart the whole asteroid. 

When the ship had finally stopped shaking Garak commented, "Well, not quite according to plan, but I'm sure Starfleet will be quite satisfied with the results." 

"I agree, Mr Garak.", the Captain said, smoothing his uniform and turning to Dax, "Well done, Old Man." 

She nodded. 

"How bad is it, Chief?", Sisko asked. 

"It doesn't look good. I'm going to have to switch to auxiliary life support. Deflectors are down, guidance system's shot, and...", O'Brien paused. 

"And what?" 

"The core matrix is fried. We don't have warp drive." 

Garak's heart jumped. 

"Uh, forgive my ignorance", he said, "but if we don't have warp drive, how long is it going to take us to reach the closest Federation Starbase?" 

"A long time, Mr Garak.", the Captain answered wearily. 

"How long?", Garak turned to Julian. 

"17 years, two months and three days... give or take an hour."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, they're stranded O_O


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode is "Rocks and Shoals", lots of dialogue from show

Chief O'Brien estimated the time he would need to restore main power to three days. After the second day however, the sensors detected two Jem'Hadar fighters heading their way. 

Their chances of survival were limited to say the least. 

"Mr Garak, where are those ships now?", the Captain asked, since Garak had resumed headset-duty. 

"Bearing 310 mark 215, still closing.", he answered. 

Sisko put on the second headset to confirm. In the background Nog and the Chief were loudly swearing about the mechanics of this 'damned ship'. 

"Still no power to weapons or shields.", Lieutenant Dax said. 

"Dax, there's a dark matter nebula 60 degrees above the bow.", the Captain said, "Can we reach it?" 

"Yes", she confirmed, "but that nebula's never been charted. We don't know what's in there." 

"The Jem'Hadar ships are entering weapons range.", Garak warned. 

Shortly after, they got hit. 

Bright lights flashed and the whole ship rocked. 

"Dax! Get us into the nebula.", Sisko yelled, "Full impulse!" 

But just as he had finished the sentence, they got hit again. 

Electricity sparked and Garak heard a scream. A whole part of an overhead beam came down. 

When he could see properly again, Dax was lying on the ground behind her console. 

The Captain rushed towards her. "Sisko to Bashir, medical emergency." 

Thankfully she seemed to be conscious, which was more than could be said about Garak's headset. 

It had switched off, making them effectively blind. He tried to get it to work again by tapping on it frantically, pressing the buttons. 

"Helm control's gone.", the Chief said. 

In the meantime, Julian had arrived on the bridge, kneeling beside Lieutenant Dax. 

"She's got a puncture of the right abdominal cavity. It looks as though the symbiont may have been injured." 

Electricity sparked again. 

"Sensors are gone, impulse engines off-line.", O'Brien yelled. "In fact everything's off-line. Emergency power's holding for now." 

"Mr Garak, take a look outside.", the Captain said. 

"Just a moment." 

It was easier said than done. Cursed Dominion-technology. 

In the background Sisko and the Chief were discussing what exactly had happened. 

"We must have been hit by some kind of gravitational spike in the-" 

Finally Garak got the headset to work and the light on the tiny screen switched on again. What he saw was most disconcerting. 

Interrupting the conversation, he uttered "Oh, no!" 

"Mr Garak?", the Captain asked. 

"Hold on!", Garak yelled as he saw the planet rushing nearer and nearer in the viewscreen. 

They were in almost free fall towards the surface, getting pulled in by its gravity. With engines and everything else gone, there was nothing they could do but brace for impact. 

And what an impact it was. 

Sparks flew, metal bent and creaked. Garak got tumbled around, trying to grasp at something to cling to. 

Then it stopped as suddenly as it had begun. But just as Garak took a breath of relief, he felt water rising up from what he perceived was the ground. 

He found an exit, swimming to the surface, and then to the shore of the lake they had crash landed in. 

Around him others were doing the same. 

Nog was crawling onto the sand right after him, coughing and then collapsing, breathing hard. 

Garak extended his hand. "Cadet, this is no time to lie down on the job.", he pulled him up and made sure he was all right. Nothing serious, just a few bumps and bruises, as he had himself. 

To his utter relief, a few meters down the shore, he saw Julian, alive and well. Together with Sisko and the Chief, he had built a kind of makeshift float to transport Dax safely across the water. 

"Garak! I need a hand.", the Doctor called over to him, and Garak was more than happy to follow. 

Together they carefully lifted the Lieutenant off the float, Julian taking her upper body and Garak her legs. 

Luckily they quickly found a cave for shelter where a bed was made for Dax. 

The Doctor immediately started to repair the worst damage, but muttered under his breath about insufficient instruments. He only had his med kit, so just the bare essentials. 

She was stable, but still in quite some pain. 

The rest of the crew gathered round a large boulder that someone shot at with a phaser to make it heat up. They put various wet garments on it to dry. 

O'Brien approached Garak. "It seems that I tore my pants." 

He had taken them off for inspection, handing them to Garak. 

"Lucky for you, it ripped on the seam." 

"Can you fix it?", the Chief asked. 

"Unlucky for you my sewing kit went down with the ship.", Garak answered ruefully. 

"Maybe someone could go get it.", a crew member suggested, "The ship's only about 500 meters below the surface." 

"How long can you hold your breath, Cadet?", O'Brien gave back deadpan. 

After they had all dried off and recovered their strength, teams were sent out to explore the area. 

Garak was paired up with Nog. 

The landscape was fairly dry and dusty, though it also had some green in the form of bushes and grass. Garak enjoyed feeling the warmth of a sun again, even though it was under such dire circumstances. 

They were both wielding tricorders, pointing them here and there in search of something interesting. 

After a while of walking, Garak stopped, seemingly casual, looking at his tricorder. Nog stopped as well, standing beside him. Then Garak took a step back. Nog did so as well. 

"What are you doing?", Garak asked, fairly irritated. 

"Following orders.", Nog replied, "Captain told us to scan the area for fresh water and vegetation-" 

"You know precisely what I mean.", Garak interrupted, "You're deliberately staying behind me and I want to know why.", he stepped closer, "Does this have anything to do with that unfortunate business between you and me last year?" 

"You tied me up and threatened to kill me." 

Hmm, well. 

"There were extenuating circumstances.", Garak said. 

"It happened.", Nog gave back, "So you can either stay in front of me or walk beside me but I won't turn my back on you again." 

There was nothing Garak could argue against it, so he just resorted to his usual reply in such situations. 

"Cadet, there may be hope for you yet." 

They walked on. Then suddenly both tricorders started beeping. 

"What is it?", Nog asked. 

Garak squinted at the display. "I'm not sure, but-" 

He didn't get further because three Jem'Hadar soldiers materialized right in front of them, weapons ready. 

"Now I'm sure.", Garak commented. 

"You will come with us.", the leader said. 

Garak glanced at their disruptor-rifles and then back at them. "Well it seems like we don't have a choice, do we?" 

Nog hissed but didn't say anything. 

They were led to a dimly-lit cave where the Jem'Hadar tied their arms on their backs. After that, they were brought to the Vorta for questioning. 

"How many others are there in your unit?" 

He seemed a little worse for wear, too weak apparently to sit up, lying on a makeshift bed. 

"Nog", the little Ferengi answered, "Cadet Third Class, serial number CX-937-" 

"Shut up.", Garak interrupted him when he saw that one of the Jem'Hadar behind them was pulling out a knife. 

"As I tried to explain to your men", Garak continued, "my name is Kamar, and I'm a member of the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau, what used to be called the Obsidian Order. A week ago, as I was performing my duties in the glorious service of the Founders I was captured by the USS Centaur. I was held aboard one of their shuttles when we were forced-" 

There he got cut off by the Vorta. 

"Excuse me, Mr Kamar, if that's really your name, but if you're one of our allies, why were you wearing this?" 

He used his limited strength to hold a Starfleet comm badge aloft. Garak's comm badge. Damn. 

"Ah.", Garak said, "I was hoping you weren't going to ask me about that." 

"I only have one further question for you. Is there a doctor in your unit?" 

Garak's stomach tightened. 

He took a moment before he quietly said "Yes." 

Nog turned to him, outraged. "Garak!" 

"Don't be too hard on him, young man.", the Vorta rasped, "He just saved your life." 

Which was what Garak had counted on, even if he didn't like it. 

"Take them to a secure area.", the Vorta commanded, then turned to one of the Jem'Hadar specifically, "Third..." 

Garak didn't catch more as they were led out of the main cave and into a little alcove. One of the Jem'Hadar was positioned a little way away to guard them. 

The floor on which they sat was damp and hard. That their hands were still tied on their backs didn't make things any more comfortable. 

"How could you betray Doctor Bashir like that?", Nog whispered intensely once the Jem'Hadar was out of earshot, "I thought he was your friend!" 

"You heard what the Vorta said.", Garak replied as calmly as he could, "It saved both of our lives." 

"Don't act like you were concerned about _my_ life.", Nog hissed. 

"Listen.", Garak was just short of exploding, "The Vorta needs a Doctor. He's desperate. Did you even look at him? What good would it have done to lie? Sooner or later the Jem'Hadar would've found our camp either way and taken Doctor Bashir by force and a lot of bloodshed. And we would've been shot dead right there and then. No chance to warn the Captain. Does that sound worth it to you?" 

Nog seemed stunned, looking down rather than meeting Garak's eyes. 

"Now we'll most likely be exchanged for the Doctor and perhaps another crew member.", Garak continued, "If we were dead, our team would be down two men, which would give the Jem'Hadar an advantage. But since we're alive we can help resolve this situation, isn't that better?" 

"... I guess." 

"I'm glad you understand.", Garak said, "Believe me, there will come no harm to Doctor Bashir." 

There better not, or the Jem'Hadar would experience first hand what Garak was capable of. 

He was right though, soon they were brought to a lake that had a sort of natural bridge. A narrow pass of stone. Them and the Jem'Hadar on one side, Captain Sisko and the crew on the other. 

"You may go.", one of the Jem'Hadar told them, and Garak and Nog crossed the lake to the other side. 

In the middle they met Sisko and Julian, going the other way. 

"Ah, good afternoon, Captain, Doctor.", he said in an almost light-hearted tone. 

"Are you two all right?", Sisko asked without stopping. Garak and Nog didn't halt either, it would make the Jem'Hadar nervous. 

"Perfect. How are you?", Garak answered. 

"Felt better.", Julian said. It stung Garak's heart a little to hear it. 

They would get him out if the Vorta didn't keep to his word. He made a mental promise to the Doctor. 

The next hours were a game of waiting. Garak wouldn't call himself a patient man, but he could be disciplined if the situation required it. 

This time though, he almost scratched the skin around his fingernails raw. 

It took an enormous effort not to pull Julian into a tight hug when he and Sisko returned, but instead to greet him politely with a restrained touch on the arm. 

There wasn't a lot of time to dwell on it though. 

The Doctor had fixed up the Vorta as best as possible, who in turn had relayed a devious plan to them. 

Since they were as stranded on this world as the Starfleet crew, all of their ketracel-white rations, except for one, were used up. 

The Vorta, fearing the Jem'Hadar's reaction to withdrawal and his loss of power over them, proposed he was going to order his soldiers to attack the Starfleet camp the next morning. He had told them that so Sisko could prepare his crew for the attack and ultimately win. 

In exchange the Vorta would give them a communications system that needed repairing, but could probably be fixed by the Chief in mere hours. He would then surrender to them as a prisoner of war. 

Garak was slightly impressed by this level of deceit. 

After the Captain had told all of this to his crew, people dispersed into smaller groups, most of them discussing what they had just heard. 

Julian was sitting a little way off on a rock in the shadows, knees pulled up to his chin and looking gloomy. 

Garak walked over and sat down next to him. 

"I don't like this.", Julian mumbled without looking up. 

Garak nodded. "I know.", he reached out a hand to rub the Doctor's back. 

Julian turned his head towards him and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

"I'm so glad the Jem'Hadar didn't harm you. I don't want to think about what would've happened if they weren't desperate for a doctor." 

"Nog is still furious with me though for telling them.", Garak looked down. He himself wasn't too comfortable with it, even though he'd had good reasons. 

"You had to.", Julian said as if he had read Garak's thoughts, "I wouldn't have had it any other way. Nog may not like it, but he'll learn." 

Garak smiled. 

\--- 

"... And when they've reached this point we'll have them in a crossfire.", Sisko explained the plan one last time before they were due to get into position, drawing lines in the sand of the cave floor. 

"They won't have a chance.", one of the men said, sounding resentful. 

"Now, that _is_ the point.", Garak remarked, "In case you've forgotten, we're in a war." 

"There _are_ rules, Garak even in a war.", the Chief said. 

"Correction", Garak gave back, "Humans have rules in war. Rules that tend to make victory a little harder to achieve, in my opinion." 

"So we just... shoot them down?", the same crew member asked. 

"They wouldn't hesitate if the situation was reversed.", a woman said. Finally someone with rational thinking skills. 

"But we're not the Jem'Hadar.", Nog joined in on the discussion, "It is our duty-" 

"This isn't a vote!", Sisko yelled suddenly. Everyone flinched. The Captain didn't often raise his voice like that. 

"The decision's mine.", he continued more level, "And Mr Garak is right, we are at war. Given the choice between us and them there _is_ no choice. Let's move out."


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episodes are "Rocks and Shoals" and a little bit of the beginning of "Sons and Daughters"

They were lying in waiting behind rocks and big boulders when the Jem'Hadar came. Phaser-rifles pointed, careful not to give away their position. 

The soldiers were punctual, just like the Vorta had said. 

They arrived in loose formation, unprepared for an attack, since they thought they were the ones staging a surprise coup. 

Just a few metres and they would be in weapon's range. 

The nerves around Garak were strained, everyone listened carefully for Sisko's signal to fire. 

But suddenly the Captain spoke up. 

"Remata' Klan!", he yelled the name of the leader across the distance, "I want to talk!" 

What was he doing? 

"Agreed!", the Jem'Hadar yelled back. 

Sisko left his position, walking towards the Jem'Hadar, and Garak fully expected him to get shot as soon as he left his hiding spot. 

The soldiers moved into position, disruptor rifles pointed at the cluster of boulders the Starfleet crew and Garak were hiding behind. But noone fired. 

"There's no way out of this canyon", Sisko began when they had met in the middle, "and we have phasers locked on every one of you." 

"It appears you have a decisive advantage.", Remata' Klan said without even a trace of emotion. 

"To fight a battle under these circumstances would serve no purpose. I'm prepared to offer terms." 

But the Jem'Hadar shook his head. 

"Hear me out!", the Captain continued, "I know you need more ketracel-white. My doctor can sedate your men and keep them alive until we're rescued. After that, we can put you in medical stasis until we secure a new supply." 

"The Vorta did not give me the option to surrender.", Remata' Klan said and turned to go. 

"Keevan's betrayed you!" 

The Jem'Hadar stopped in his tracks and turned to face the Captain again. 

"He gave us your entire plan of attack last night.", Sisko continued. 

Remata' Klan took a few steps towards Sisko again and looked at him silently for a moment, then he spoke. 

"It was obvious that approaching your position from this canyon was a deliberate tactical error on his part." 

"You knew?" 

"I suspected.", the Jem'Hadar said, "Despite what Keevan may think, the Jem'Hadar are often one step ahead of the Vorta." 

"You can still stay one step ahead.", the Captain said, "Surrender." 

"I have my orders." 

"Keevan doesn't deserve the unwavering loyalty you're giving him.", Sisko pleaded. 

"He does not have to earn my loyalty, Captain. He has had it from the moment I was conceived.", Remata' Klan said with assurance, "I am a Jem'Hadar. He is a Vorta. It is the order of things." 

Sisko seemed to smile, but Garak couldn't see very well from his spot. 

"Do you really want to give up your life for the order of things?" 

"It is not my life to give up, Captain. And it never was.", with that Remata' Klan turned around and walked back to his men. Sisko made no further protest. He too walked back to his spot. 

Garak watched the small troop of Jem'Hadar. Remata' Klan was instructing them. 

After a few moments they began to run towards the boulders, firing. 

The stones obviously made it hard for them to do any real damage. In contrast, Garak and the Starfleet crew had easy targets on the open field. 

Garak was still a good shot, even if he was a little out of practice. He hit two of the soldiers, who fell down and never stood up again. 

It was an ugly massacre, there was no way to describe it differently. 

When the dust had settled, all the Jem'Hadar bodies lay on the stony ground. They hadn't come far from where they started. 

The only loss on Starfleet side was an Ensign who had been hit fatally. 

In the distance a lone figure was walking towards them. It was the Vorta, carrying the communications system. 

As he stepped over the bodies, Garak could see Captain Sisko's finger twitch on the trigger of his rifle. 

"You know, Captain", the Vorta called over to them, "if I had had just two more vials of white... you never would've had a chance." 

Mentally Garak was willing the Captain to just shoot this creature. But of course he didn't. 

"Chief!", Sisko called, "Get this... Take him back to base camp, then get to work on that com system." 

"Aye, sir." 

"Lieutenant Neeley! Form a burial detail.", he said a little more softly. 

"Aye, sir." 

It was a brief and not very ceremonious service, but given the circumstance it was a nice gesture. 

The Chief didn't take long to figure out the communication system, and with the energetic help of Nog he fixed it in no time. By Garak's estimate it surely set a new record. 

Shortly after, an SOS was sent out. 

Since now the only thing to do was waiting for help to arrive, and neither of them were needed at the moment, Garak and Julian snuck off into a different part of the cave for some time alone. 

"Mhmm", Julian said as he laid his head on Garak's shoulder and leaned even further into him, "This is nice. But we shouldn't stay away for too long." 

"I agree.", Garak said, "On both of your statements.", he added with a smirk and could feel a grin spread across Julian's face. 

"It feels weird to have you agree with me." 

"Well, don't get too used to it.", Garak retorted, "I won't let my fondness for you cloud my judgement." 

He hadn't meant to phrase it that way, it had just slipped out. 

Tactfully Julian didn't comment on the fact that Garak had just admitted to being fond of him. Though he could've sworn that the Doctor snuggled a little closer. 

\--- 

They were rescued by General Martok and his crew, which included Lieutenant Worf who displayed quite a touching concern for the injured Dax. 

He didn't have to worry for too long though, since on the ship Julian was finally reunited with adequate medical supply. Dax quickly made a full recovery. 

Martok brought them to Starbase 375 where they would get new orders, though the trip took a while. Too long for Garak's taste. 

There wasn't anything edible on the Rotarran that didn't still move. It made him nauseous, but he had no choice if he didn't want to starve. 

Julian had a more enthusiastic approach to foreign cuisine, but even his appetite waned dramatically after a few days. 

Though what was even more draining was the Klingon idea of a nice evening. Singing and drinking until the morning seemed hardwired into their DNA. Hard to believe that the stoic Mr Worf really was a Klingon. 

The only upside to this style of life was that nobody paid any attention to who was in whose quarters and what kind of noises emitted from them. This way it was quite easy to keep their little secret. 

Although the Chief reacted suspiciously understanding towards all the different excuses Julian gave as to why he couldn't spend the evening with him. 

Garak was pretty sure he knew, or at least suspected, what was going on. A reasonable assumption after what Garak had blurted out to him on Empok Nor under the influence of that experimental drug. 

He hadn't told Julian about that. Maybe he should. 

But then again Julian would probably want to let the Chief in on it. Something he suspected would be equally as unwanted and awkward by O'Brien as by Garak. At least on that front they agreed. 

Finally they reached the Starbase, and one of the first things Garak did was eat a proper lunch in the mess hall, one that didn't move. Julian soon joined him after a quick debriefing with the resident Admiral. 

Not for the first time Garak was thankful he didn't have to endure debriefings. That was a pleasure reserved for Starfleet personnell. Which he decidedly wasn't, even though he wore a comm badge these days. 

"So, did you all get a medal?", he asked, not caring one bit that he was still chewing. 

Julian grinned, and Garak wasn't sure if it was directed at his comment or the enormous steak on Julian's plate which was very well done. 

"No, but the Admiral thanked us profusely and gave the usual speech of 'doing important work, cornerstone of the Federation, saving lives' and so on." 

"That sounds a lot more cynical than your usual self.", Garak raised his eyeridges. 

"Well, after you've heard it a few times it starts to lose meaning. Especially since we're at war.", Julian's mood had visibly darkened. 

Garak quickly changed the topic. "Do you know what will never stop being meaningful to me ever again? Having a meal that either never moved, or has been dead for hours." 

Now the grin was back. "In a quiet environment where nobody is singing ballads of glorious battles and death.", Julian added and Garak nodded. 

"Only Klingons would call their most popular party-drink bloodwine." 

"If Quark invested in bloodwine he could make a fortune. Have you seen how quickly they empty a barrel?", Julian asked. 

"I think his nephew already had the same idea.", Garak remarked, "I saw Nog carry a few bottles when we left the ship. Going by the labels it was quite a vintage, who knows where he got them from." 

"Clever lad.", Julian seemed impressed. 

"Indeed." 

\--- 

With the Station as a base point, the Defiant got sent out on missions again. 

A lot of them were successful and there were only few casualties among the crew, just a lot of injuries which made sure Julian had no reason for boredom. 

At times Garak felt like he had joined Starfleet now after all. He was part of the crew, performing duties, reporting to Sisko. 

He wasn't sure what to think about it, but it wasn't like he had a choice. Where else would he go? And why? 

He didn't want Cardassia to win, even though he was Cardassian. That alone made him queasy to think about. 'Cardassia above all' had been drilled into his head from childhood. 

The way he justified it to himself was to direct the thoughts towards the Dominion. And Dukat. More than anything Dukat. 

And that, he was sure, he had in common with Sisko. 

It wasn't really Garak's style to put his faith into one person, let alone a Human, but he was convinced that the Captain would manage to free Deep Space Nine from Dukat's greedy clutches. 

And he was very much looking forward to this day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is more exposition than anything else, but the story needs to move forward and I don't want to dwell on the war any longer than necessary :/


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episodes are "Behind the lines", "Favor the Bold" and "Sacrifice of Angels", some dialogue taken from the show

Surprisingly, on their return from a mission, while necessary repairs were being conducted on the Defiant, it was announced that Captain Sisko would step down from command of the ship. 

"But why?", Garak asked curiously as he took a late lunch with Julian in the mess hall. 

"The Admiral promoted him.", Julian shrugged, "The Captain doesn't seem too pleased about it though. But it's a great opportunity for Jadzia to command the Defiant." 

"So you already know about the next mission?" 

"Roughly.", Julian bit into his sandwich. 

Garak made an impatient gesture for him to continue, but the Doctor only grinned while chewing thoroughly. 

Finally he answered. "We're going through the Argolis Cluster. It's a surprise maneuver." 

"The Argolis Cluster? There won't be anything left to surprise the Jem'Hadar with once we're through that. We'll be shred to pieces by the gravimetric shear.", Garak said, disbelieving. 

"Jadzia says she can pilot us through. She's studied protostar clusters and knows what to look for." 

"And you trust her on that, I gather?" 

"I don't think Jadzia would say something like that if she didn't fully believe she was capable of it.", Julian said. 

Such unwavering faith in his friend. 

Garak nodded. "Well, then that's good enough for me I guess." 

He received an adoring smile from Julian, and had they not been in public, Garak would've kissed him. 

But seemingly Captain Sisko wasn't to be the only one not attending the next mission. Since he had been promoted to coming up with tactical plans, he asked Garak to assist him. 

Garak knew enough about Cardassian military tactics to be of some use, he agreed on that, but still he'd rather go with the Defiant. There was no arguing though, Sisko could be very persuasive. 

So he waved Julian and the crew goodbye with a nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

The mission took about twenty hours, in which Garak struggled to get some rest. 

They were indeed successful in avoiding getting torn apart under Dax' command, though apparently there had been some tight situations involving the Jem'Hadar. 

On their return, Julian told him proudly how he'd had to take over the con when Lieutenant Haj got injured. 

He wasn't too sure how dramatic the situation really had been, since the story got more elaborate every time the Doctor told it, but he smiled and nodded. Garak couldn't exactly chide Julian for embellishing a little when he himself was infamous for lying. 

And it was rather charming how animated Julian got when he informed any random person he met about his heroism. 

Garak tried not to show how worried he'd been, but couldn't help holding Julian a little tighter than usual once they were alone. Julian just smiled and whispered "I missed you too." 

It wasn't nice to be so cut off from everyone all of a sudden after months of close contact with the crew. Sisko probably felt the same, watching the Defiant take off on mission after mission. 

The war wasn't going great for them. Now that Garak had more of an overview of the situation, due to his new position, it became even more apparent. 

He began to worry. 

It wasn't just that, but one day, three people appeared, requesting to ask Garak some questions. 

They didn't wear badges, but they were clearly Starfleet. Garak felt like refusing them would not be a wise choice. 

\--- 

"Everything appears to be perfectly normal.", Julian announced when he was done scanning, "I'm sorry Garak.", he added sympathetically. 

They were sitting round a table, together with some of the senior crew after another return from a mission. 

"Well, keep looking Doctor. Whatever Starfleet put in there is very well-hidden." 

"Ridiculous.", the Chief commented. 

"Well, that's easy for you to say, Chief. You don't know them as well as I do. These are desperate people." 

"Garak, you're not going to get _any_ of us to believe that Starfleet Intelligence has implanted some kind of neural transponder in your brain to monitor your thoughts.", Dax said. 

"I would have if I were them.", Garak argued, "In fact, when I was conducting interrogations for the Obsidian Order, I did a lot worse." 

"I'm sure you did.", Julian had put on the kind of comforting voice he used on his patients, but Garak was less than comforted. He would have a word with him about that later. 

"They are not interrogating you, Mr Garak", Worf threw in, "they are debriefing. There _is_ a difference." 

"Not from where I'm sitting." 

"Oh, I'll have a raktajino, Julian.", Dax said to the Doctor who had wandered over to the replicator. 

"Look, Garak", the Chief began, "we are at war with the Dominion. Cardassia is part of the Dominion. You are a Cardassian and, at one time, you were a fairly important one. 

Of course Starfleet Intelligence is going to press you for specifics. They need to know everything you know." 

"Any small detail could prove extremely important.", Worf added. 

"Well, take it from me, it's a lot more fun asking questions than answering them.", Garak took a deep breath, "All things considered, I'd rather be on the Defiant with all of you." 

"Oh, believe me, you haven't been missing much.", O'Brien scoffed. 

"Hopefully, all of that's about to change.", Dax said. 

"Do you think Starfleet Command will approve Sisko's plan?", Julian asked. 

"Well, we'll find out soon enough.", Dax answered, sipping her raktajino, "He's in there presenting it right now." 

"Here's to retaking the castle.", the Chief raised his mug. 

"And planting our flag on its battlements once again.", Julian added, raising his own. 

"You two have spent too much time in the holosuites.", Dax rolled her eyes, and Garak could only agree with her. 

They were talking about Captain Sisko's plan to retake Deep Space Nine. 

It took a few days of debate and convincing before Starfleet command agreed, but finally they did. 

Preparations were made to get the fleets together and talk the Klingons into helping retake DS9. 

But then Sisko received a coded message telling him that Dukat had figured out a way to destroy the minefield that was still protecting the wormhole. He was about to use an anti-graviton emitter to stop the self-replication of the mines. They were running out of time. 

The Klingons had yet to declare their decision. General Martok and Commander Worf had taken off a few days ago to talk to Chancellor Gowron. But they couldn't wait for them, they had to strike now or never. 

If the minefield was destroyed it would be too late, they would be overrun by Jem'Hadar reinforcements. 

Garak joined the crew of the Defiant with a nauseous feeling. 

They would either succeed in taking back their home, or... 

Garak didn't want to think of the other possibility. And when exactly had he started to think of Deep Space Nine as a home? 

Sitting at his console on the bridge, he looked over to where Julian was standing, gazing at the big viewscreen with a mix of worry and excitement. 

Garak remembered the last night. They had talked for a long time, and right before he went to sleep, Julian had mumbled "Tomorrow we're going home, Elim." 

Well, there was his answer. 

He just wished he had as much confidence in their success. 

Garak's gaze wandered around the bridge and lingered on Nog in his brand new uniform. He had been made an Ensign. 

Garak was pleased for the tiny Ferengi, but couldn't shake the thought that some people might see it as desperation on Starfleet's part. Not he though. He was happy for Nog. Really. 

Finally they left the Station, ahead of the fleet. The sight of so many ships was impressive, he had to admit. 

There was a long journey ahead of them. 

\--- 

"Sir, incoming message from the Cortéz.", the Chief reported, "They're still having trouble stabilizing the guidance thrusters on the port nacelle." 

"Tell them to drop back and make repairs.", Sisko ordered, "Bring up the Sarek to take its place." 

"Will do." 

"That's the 11th ship to fall out of formation.", Garak remarked while typing on his console. 

"Nice of you to keep track, Garak.", Lieutenant Dax said, humor swinging in her voice. 

"He can't help being negative.", Julian piped up, "It's in his nature." 

"On the contrary.", Garak gave back, turning around in his chair to glare at the Doctor, "I always hope for the best. Experience, unfortunately, has taught me to expect the worst." 

"I'm picking something up.", the Chief cut in before the argument could go on, "It's a large Dominion fleet bearing 004 mark 009." 

"How large?", the Captain inquired. 

"1254 ships." 

"They outnumber us two to one.", Julian's voice was almost inaudible. 

"Now who's being negative?", Garak muttered, the nauseous feeling returning. 

"Ensign, on screen. Maximum magnification.", Sisko ordered. 

"Aye, sir." 

The view was not a comforting one. 

An armada of Jem'Hadar ships. The whole bridge got quiet. 

"To all ships", the Captain broke the silence, "this is Captain Sisko. Assume attack formation delta-two." 

Red alert started blaring. 

"There's an old saying", Sisko continued, "'Fortune favors the bold.' Well... I guess we're about to find out." 

A short pause, then he went on. "Sisko to all ships. Cruiser and galaxy wings, drop to half impulse. You, too, Commander.", the last order was directed to Dax. 

"Half impulse.", she confirmed. 

"I feel sorry for the Klingons.", Garak said, "They're going to miss a very interesting fight." 

"I have a feeling we're going to miss them.", the Chief commented grimly. 

"Forget the Klingons.", Sisko said, "Our job is to get to Deep Space Nine and prevent the Dominion reinforcements from coming through the wormhole. And that's what we're going to do.", his voice was perfectly calm, "Attack-fighters, tactical pattern theta. Concentrate your fire on the Cardassian ships and then split off into squadrons and run like hell." 

Garak winced involuntarily, and from the corner of his eye he caught a sympathetic glance from Julian. 

"Why is he only targeting the Cardassian ships?", Nog mumbled to himself at the console next to Garak. 

"He's hoping to get them to break formation so they'll go after the Federation fighters.", Garak explained in a hushed tone, "He knows the Jem'Hadar will stand their ground, but the Cardassians might just get angry enough to take the bait." 

"Which would open a hole we can punch through." 

"You're getting quite an education.", Garak said with a tight smile. 

"Attack-fighters in theta formation.", Nog reported, louder again now, while looking at his screen, "Cruiser and galaxy wings at half impulse." 

"Sisko to attack-fighters. Prepare to engage on my command." 

"Aye, sir.", the Commander of the attack-fighters confirmed over the intercom. 

"Cannon to the right of them, cannon to the left of them, cannon in front of them. Volley'd and thunder'd..." 

Garak was surprised that the Chief seemed to have found an appreciation for poetry, but he thought there were surely more appropriate times. 

And Julian had the nerve to call _him_ dramatic. 

As if he had read his thoughts, Julian started to recite the rest of the verse. 

"Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell, Rode the six hundred." 

"Whatever it is you two are reciting, I wish you'd stop." 

Garak could only agree with Nog, though it made him less anxious than it seemed to make the little Ferengi. 

"Steady, Ensign. It's just a poem.", the Chief said. 

"It's not the poem that's bothering me.", Nog gave back through gritted teeth. 

"Stop worrying about those ships.", O'Brien said, "Focus on your work. That's what I do." 

"You should listen to him, Ensign.", Julian commented, "He's a professional." 

The Chief laughed. 

"Attack-fighters, full impulse.", Sisko commanded loudly, and the crew got serious again, "Fire at will." 

The view screen became a chaos of smaller ships weaving through enemy lines, firing, and the bigger ships firing back. A cluster of small explosions here and there, not unlike fireworks, but a lot less beautiful and infinitely more deadly. 

"They're not taking the bait.", the Chief said, eyes glued to the screen. 

"Ensign, send in the second wave.", Sisko had gotten up from his chair and was now pacing around the bridge, "Tell them to keep targeting the Cardassians." 

"Aye, sir. Second wave on its way. Third and fourth wave on hot standby." 

"Mr O'Brien, have destroyer units 2 and 6 move in closer. They need more cover fire. And tell Captains Diego and Reynolds to stay alert. They may try to outflank us." 

They kept at it persistently, until finally half a dozen Cardassian ships broke formation and went after the fighters. 

"They're taking the bait.", Garak exclaimed, "We've opened a hole in their lines." 

"Have we?", Sisko asked unusually calm for the situation. 

"Sir, do you see those Galore-class destroyers?", Dax said. 

"I see them." 

"It's a trap.", Julian called from the back. 

"It is also an opportunity and we may not get another one.", Sisko said, "Ensign, have Galaxy Wings 9-1 and 9-3 engage those destroyers. All other ships, head for that opening. Anyone who gets through doesn't stop until they reach Deep Space Nine." 

No sooner said than done. 

A mass of Federation ships lunged for the small opening in the enemy lines under heavy fire. 

"Congratulations, Captain.", Garak called over the noise and the shaking ship, "You wanted them angry, they're angry." 

"The Magellan and the Venture are supposed to be protecting our starboard flanks.", the Captain muttered agitated, "They're in too tight. Ensign, tell fighter squadrons 6, 7 and 8 to-" 

But he was interrupted by a panicked Nog. "Sir, I can't get through to anybody. Communications are down." 

Electricity sparked as the Defiant got hit by a phaser blast. 

"They're jamming our signal by generating a rotating EM pulse.", O'Brien called, bent over a console. 

"Can you clear it?", Sisko asked. 

"I'm trying." 

Another blast. 

"Sir, we've just lost the Sitak and the Majestic.", Dax had to yell her report over the noise, "We're on our own." 

"Com's back on line!", the Chief yelled from the other side. 

"Four enemy ships directly ahead!", Nog screamed. 

"Evasive maneuvers... pattern omega.", Sisko commanded, "We're going through!" 

Through the smoke and blinking red lights, Garak looked at Julian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to pepper in some little moments between Julian and Garak even though most of this chapter is about the war. Next chapter will be the retaking of DS9 and the following ones after that will focus more on their relationship again, I promise :)


End file.
